


sawaranaide

by nohajwo



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-デュラララ!!×２ 結 | Durarara!!x2 Ketsu, Slow Build, Slow Burn, With pictures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25529149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nohajwo/pseuds/nohajwo
Summary: Starting a new life is never easy, even for an infamous information broker, especially with both his mind and body smitten. Even harder it is to continue living, when he isn't careful enough at some point. And just to make his existence unbearable, there is only one – he wouldn't say human – creature that can help him.
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya
Comments: 26
Kudos: 92





	1. Breathe in

**Author's Note:**

> sawaranaide: could be written both as 触らないで (do not touch me) and 障らないで (do not get on my nerves). yes I love puns, if this can be called a pun.
> 
> after my obsession (the second one in my life) with durarara in 2016, I am in this again, and suddenly I am writing something. probably a slow write, but who knows, maybe rewatching drrr!!x2 will inspire me so much I'll be more productive than usually.
> 
> tags, characters, warnings, etc. will be updated with each upload.
> 
> love you all, and love durarara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I've updated the upload date CAUSE I'VE DRAWN A COVER yaaaay enjoy <333

Waking up was a torture. From a light, slightly melancholic dream with raindrops falling on his face being turned to the grey sky of Ikebukuro, the world around Izaya transformed into a painful reality with his limbs smashed and his body being a big bruise. It hurt even when he did not move; he could almost swear it hurt the most when he did not move, for it was forbidden to him even to stir, and he had to lay down, staring into the white hospital ceiling, unable to flick a finger. The seconds felt slimy, passing slowly and gradually; he felt each one of them going by as you would see a person not in a hurry go by, in each and every detail, and sometimes you would even have felt you know something about them by the time they finally disappear around the corner of the building you stand nearby.

He was doing his time, he decided with a light sigh. The hospital became his jail, where he had no access to information and where no people would visit him except for the doctor, and the nurse that would help him do his toilet. For some it would be humiliating; not for Izaya – he cared not about such things. He had other things occupy his mind.

The first was what he had to do next. The thought about coming back to Ikebukuro made his body hurt more. It was obviously not an option for him – not anymore. The road there was closed to Izaya. However, Ikebukuro apparently was not the only interesting place in the world. He would find something for him in another district, or city, or even country, of that he was sure.

The second was what had happened to his body and what he could do about that. The doctor had said that recovery would take time, but that there was no reason for Izaya to not recover fully. Of that he was glad, even though usually such down-to-earth matters did not bother him.

The third was suddenly what had happened to his so-called friends and enemies in Ikebukuro. As he had no information, the interest boiled inside him, and each minute made the temperature higher. The names passed by in his mind. Ryuugamine Mikado. Kida Masaomi. Sonohara Anri. Kishitani Shinra. The Headless Rider. Kuronuma Aoba. Yagiri Namie… The list went on and on, and there was one name that stopped the list and made Izaya squint in pain.

Heiwajima Shizuo.

What the beast had done to him somehow made the back of his head hurt. Izaya could not put his finger on why and how exactly that happened, and that annoyed him.

He would never confess to himself nor to anybody that the feeling in the back of his head was not pain but fear; primal, gut fear, the one that an animal feels when it sees a poisonous snake. Izaya tried avoiding thoughts about Shizuo, but there was no use to it; he always returned to the moment he was _broken_ , even though he himself was not aware of the word and would never dare to acknowledge it. Shizuo had done to him more than just break him physically – that Izaya had not yet comprehended, and it would take him a lot of time to do so.

The thoughts about Heiwajima were like shadows, always lingering around, never leaving completely. The worst was at the nights, when Izaya had vivid dreams about the person that was successful in making him feel fear; about how they used to argue in school over this or that, and Shizuo would become angry easily; about how Orihara had to dodge vending machines and garbage bins; about how Shizuo beat the shit out of him on that square in Ikebukuro.

Every time the door of his ward was about to open, subconsciously Izaya feared it would be Shizuo, however absurd that idea may seemed. He reassured himself – also, subconsciously – that his hospital was in K., that the monster would not come seek for him, that he was not in danger. It did not help much. Every time the door moved, he shivered and shrank like a kitten that was alone and in cold – and he was such, alone in his hospital room, and in cold neglect.

Slowly, he recovered. The bruises disappeared, the cuts faded to leave the palest of scars, the bones grew together. After a month or so, he was able to move his hands, even though not entirely freely, with slight tremor never leaving his side. Even though his legs seemed to be okay at the time, he could not move them under enough control to be able to walk, and that irritated him tremendously.

The doctor shrugged and said, ‘This must be psychosomatic, for there is no damage that would cause inability to move your limbs.’

‘Psychosomatic my ass,’ whispered Izaya under his breath and decided to just accept the fact he could not move his legs whatever the reason; so he left the hospital in a wheelchair.

There was no one to meet him; that did not upset him much. There was nowhere for him to go; this fact was more unsettling.

When leaving the hospital, he was given his belongings back, including his smartphone that had its screen broken in the corner with webs of thin shallow cracks spreading through the display, but still functional. He used it to find a flat to rent nearby, and to check the news. He was so hungry for information that he just stopped at some park and spent the whole afternoon checking the news about Bukuro and K., until his phone got its charge close to zero and told its owner about it indignantly, and the power bank was empty as well. Then Izaya had to go. Firstly, to the shop to buy a new charger plug, for there was no reason for him to come back for the old one to his apartment in Ikebukuro. Then, he was free to attend his new home.

It was not nearly as spacious as the one in Ikebukuro, but still it was nice and light. The building had an elevator, which was crucial. Izaya did not spend much time looking for a place to live, so it was quite mediocre: a room with a bed and a wardrobe, a small kitchen, and a bathroom. Still, it was nice, he told himself. There was no real need for a posh flat anyway, even though he liked comfort living.

There was still a sufficient amount of money on his numerous bank accounts, but he knew he had to start his activity again soon to be able to cover up the possible expenses. K. was a whole new field where he would have to build a way up the food chain from scratches. He had a couple connections, but that was not enough for his job. In K. there were lots of government facilities, but that was a no way to him. He had to act from the shadows, quietly and imperceptibly.

He felt young again, with nothing at his disposal and a whole new world in front of him. New people.

Izaya took his phone out and stared at the broken screen.

 _Shall we begin?_ he said to himself.

He had an acquaintance in Akukibi group, and that would be a perfect place to start. They had plans on invading Shinjuku, so he could use some old information if, of course, no one had sold them it before.

‘Aye, Akemi-san? This is Orihara. You need an informant for you? I would be glad to help. Yes, I'm not in Ikebukuro anymore. And not Shinjuku. But I have some useful data for you on Shinjuku.’

 _It's all on my computer there,_ was an annoying thought. _Well, guess I'll have to call Shinra._

‘Yes, as soon as possible. We'll agree on the payment, I believe. If possible, I would love to make you a loyal client of mine in the future. Thank you.’

He hanged up and called Kishitani the next moment. Quickly described the situation and came to an agreement on The Headless Rider fetching the PC for him for twenty thousand yen. It was expensive, but that was the safest and the fastest solution.

Then he called some people in Shinjuku to check up on news. However fast the life in the district was, he had to know the latest tendencies to be able to stay relevant.

It felt good to be back. They say, if you love your job, you do not have to work a single day. In case of Izaya that was true. He spent much time on his work, but he enjoyed it, so the time flew by.

The only problem was, now he was close to immobile. Of course, nothing stopped him from going outside, but where he used to be quick and slick like a snake, now he would get stuck in a wheelchair. He also was not used to it, and his speed left much to be desired. He would get accustomed to it, he decided.

He went to buy some groceries, for the fridge was empty, and however much he hated the fact, he had to eat. When he was at the shop, his phone rang. It was his old to say so friend from Shinjuku wanting to know if he was alive at all. The news of Izaya leaving to K. probably disappointed him, but Izaya could not care less. He valued people if they gave him information or fun, and that friend gave him neither. He used to inform Izaya about the local gang, but they disbanded, and since that the friend was of no use.

He was polite, like he always was, but tried to make the caller understand that further calls were unwanted.

To kill time, which he used to do by strolling the district, he bought a few books which he was going to read in the park nearby the main district square. There he would also be able to look at his beloved human beings interact with each other. He did not care much about what to read, so he took ‘Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep,’ ‘A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man,’ and ‘The Atlas Shrugged.’ Any book would do, in fact, for he enjoyed the process itself. Not as much as observing people, of course.

He ate in silence, took the book, and went to the park. The evening was calm and beautiful, the sky orange with the soon sunset. In the park, there were many people on the benches; some kids splashed in the fountain. A street musician played violin.

There was a feeling of a new life waiting for Izaya, and that he liked. The whole new world, all at his disposal, like Ikebukuro once had been. He knew it would not be a problem to find a place in the information network of K., and his talent to find information first and deliver it to a person that needed it would not be wasted.

Izaya lifted his head from the book and suddenly saw a blond head a hundred meters away from him. He felt his guts shrink in fear; his breath became quick and shallow; he clenched on to the book. It could not be Heiwajima, it was just not possible, but the fear occupied his mind.

 _Go away,_ he thought. _Please just go away._

He could see even from afar that that was just some tourist, but it was too late. There were bright green dots moving before his eyes, and the noise in his ears was deafening. He could not breathe in anymore, and felt the Earth move under his feet. He pressed the book to his chest; there were no dots anymore, just darkness. There was a pure sense of _danger,_ as if something terrible was about to happen to him.

 _Calm down. Calm down. It's not him. It's not him. He cannot be here. You're safe,_ he told himself, but the thoughts escaped his control, and he was back at that night in Ikebukuro, Shizuo in front of him.

He heard someone say, ‘Are you okay?’ but could not reply. He felt tears running down his face. His legs ached, his hands were shuddering strongly.

Someone put their hands on his shoulders, and he exclaimed loudly, ‘Don't touch me!’

He was left be.

Izaya counted to ten, slowly and quietly. To twenty. To thirty. Gradually, his breath returned to him.

To forty, and he could see again.

To fifty, and he was in control once more. The blond head had disappeared.

He hurried back home, which was the only place he thought he would feel safe, but the sense of danger did not leave him.

Lying down on the bed was difficult, but after a minute of trying he could do that, even though not as graciously as he used to move. He could deal with that, for it was not really a matter of interest to him. He could do his work without running around the city.

However, if someone decided to kill him, that would be a serious obstacle.

_I need a bodyguard. Not yet, but in future I surely will need one._

He thought about the possibility of coming back to Ikebukuro with a bodyguard, but no bodyguard would save him from panic and from Heiwajima Shizuo. Simon, maybe, but he would not agree.

That flash of panic was both frightening and annoying. Would he always react like this to every blonde in the city? Was there any way to control it? He could not find the answers.

The sleep did not come. The thoughts swarmed in his head like bees. He had never felt so unsafe before.

He searched and found that he had a panic attack. He read about them until one a.m., and finally the sleep hugged him, and he fell asleep holding his phone in his hand.

However, in the sleep there was that night again. He felt the punches and the kicks; he felt bones breaking inside him; he felt blood gushing inside him from some organ that was destroyed. The dream did not end with him escaping; the punches and kicks continued until he felt numb, lying on the ground and staring into the deep black sky of the city, feeling death flushing over him slowly.

He woke up wet from sweat, folded back the duvet, and sat up. The phone showed four a.m., and there obviously was no possibility he would go to sleep again.

He suddenly wanted to call someone just to be talking. He took the phone once again and stared at the contact list. Suddenly, he felt alone. Like there was no one to tell him Shizuo wouldn't come after him. No one to reassure him everything was alright. No one to miss him if he would die.

He felt strangely human.

‘What the hell, Orihara-kun? It's four in the morning!’

Shinra was drowsy and angry according to his voice. Izaya hung up.

* * *

The city was calm despite its constant fuss. It had been like that for a couple months already, and Shizuo felt good. Of course, sometimes people would set his teeth on edge, but it still was so _calm_ when there was no flea in his field of view. Izaya had disappeared from Ikebukuro after that night Shizuo beat him close to death, and that disappearance benefited the city in all the possible ways. Nothing interrupted its normal life anymore, and Shizuo could finally find some peace of his mind.

He continued working with Tanaka, and luckily he did not usually have to use his strength – now people would do anything they were told to do just by seeing The Heiwajima Shizuo coming after them. Sometimes they provoked him with their stupidity, but it was their fault anyways. Everyone knew he had a bad temper.

Kasuka told him he was doing great, and sent a dozen new bartender suits.

Shizuo honestly loved Ikebukuro. Its streets, its buildings, its people. It was charming, especially at night, never mind all the weird things that happened there in the dark. Any insane stuff like The Headless Rider or Saika he also loved. They were the essential parts of the city life.

Izaya was not.

He came like a storm, disrupted Ikebukuro's tempo, and escaped back into his hole in Shinjuku. For Shizuo that was unforgivable. He just wanted everything to stay in its place, to live a calm and hasteless life – but no, the flea just had to ruin his days and his mood.

When he was gone, Shizuo could sigh with relief and hope he would never see the flea again.

It was a dark clear night; he was strolling down the streets when he saw Celty standing nearby an apartment building, loading her bike with something in her hands that looked like a computer.

‘Need a hand?’

She shook her – well, helmet, put the computer into an improvised bag made of some dark matter or whatever, and put it on her shoulder.

‘Someone told you to fetch their PC?’

‘Yes,’ was a short answer on a phone screen. Shizuo decided not to be nosy and did not ask who ordered her services. It was not his business anyway. ‘How are your days going?’ she asked.

‘You know, since Izaya left Ikebukuro, everything has been just fine. No one annoys me that much anymore, and there is no stench in the city. And no one interrupts its life, finally.’

‘Do you know where he is now?’

‘No, and I don't really want to. I care not if it isn't Bukuro.’

‘There are rumours about him, Shinra said.’

‘What kind of?’ suddenly he became curious – just a tiny bit.

‘That he cannot walk anymore.’

Shizuo thought about that. _He deserves that,_ he wanted to say, but stopped himself. He wasn't sure if he really thought that way.

‘Then he won't appear here.’

‘That is cruel, you know.’

‘It was half a joke.’

‘Okay.’

‘Wanna talk a bit?’

She nodded, sat on a fence and typed something.

_Did I really beat him that bad? Well, I was going to kill him. I'm glad I did not… What am I thinking? This is the flea we're talking about._

The thoughts would not leave him. He took out a cigarette and lit it up. With smoke filling up his lungs, he felt relaxation in his limbs. Good he always had a way to calm himself down. Even though it was bad for his health, nothing seemed to be able to kill him anyway.

‘So, how's work?’

‘As usual. People are afraid of me, but I wish that would make them less annoying. I hate using my power during the work. And, you know, destroying Ikebukuro isn't that nice, too. I like it the way it is.’

‘Me too.’ She thought a little bit. ‘Shinra offered me a trip.’

‘Yeah? Where?’

‘Japan. I would like to see more of it, and Shinra agrees.’

‘Oh, that's nice. When do you leave?’

‘In a week or so.’

‘Have a nice trip then, if we don't have a chance to meet again before you leave.’

‘Thank you.’

There was a silence then. Like always with Celty, it was not awkward. It was the kind of silence you enjoy, just staring at the city dwelling around you.

‘For how long do you leave?’

‘We don't know yet. Maybe a month, maybe half a year. If you want to, I may keep you informed.’

‘No, enjoy your rest. You deserve it. From what I've heard, you work without weekends.’

‘Don't you, too?’

Shizuo laughed. ‘I'm fine with that. Any day I'm free to go, but I like working, you know? It doesn't let my thoughts being occupied with this dull aggression.’

‘I'm glad.’

‘Yeah, me too.’

They fell silent again. Shizuo could hear the noises of the city from afar. People speaking, cars and bikes roaring, and that weird sound that only the big cities have. You don't know what causes it or where it comes from, but it's always there, that hum of a metropolis.

The thoughts were still present, though.

‘Do you think those rumours about the flea are true? That he can't walk?’

‘I don't know. Could they be? I didn't see the fight.’

‘Well, I beat him up quite bad. But I don't remember breaking his spine or anything. Maybe he was the one who started them, the rumours. But why though? You never know what is happening in that twisted mind of his. He's insane, isn't he?’

‘Probably.’

‘As a person that's known him for years…’ he took out another cigarette. ‘He is. And it's better for him not to show up here. Walking or not, I'll beat him again.’

‘Not to death, I hope?’

‘He's done such things to you but you still don't want him dead? How kind of you, Celty. No, I think I don't want to kill him anymore. I've decided that I don't want to be a monster everyone sees me as.’

‘Even if you're a monster, you're not a murderer. I am a monster, for example. There is nothing bad about it.’

‘You think so?’ he exhaled the smoke.

‘Yes.’

Shizuo pondered on that.

‘Maybe you're right. I may be a monster, but I'm not a murderer. I'm a human in the first place. Then goes everything else.’

After a short silence, Celty typed, ‘Well, I have to get going. Was nice talking to you.’

‘Yeah, I'm glad I met you today. Have a nice trip, again.’

She waved at him goodbye and sat on her bike. It neighed silently. Shizuo waved back and threw the not-finished cigarette in a pocket ashtray.


	2. Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Oh I get it. Okay. Nothing to lose then.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little interlude for ya <3

Izaya ordered his PC to be delivered ‘as soon as possible,’ so he wasn't really surprised when at five in the morning the doorbell rang. Not like he was asleep anyway, after the cold nightmare that felt just too real. He put the book he was to no success trying to read on the kitchen table and moved to the entrance. Before opening the door – just in case – he left the chain connected to the jamb. The door creaked, showing that behind it was Celty with a computer in her hands. She was probably expecting to be on the same level as him, so when standing straight led her to staring into the empty hall, she lowered – well, whatever was there in the place of her head – and he felt meeting her glance.

‘Hi,’ Izaya waved less cheerfully than he wanted and removed the chain, riding back and opening the door entirely. ‘Long time no see.’

Celty put the computer down and took out her phone, typing a reply.

‘Long time indeed. How are you?’

‘Alive, as you can see,’ he shrugged, ‘even though some may see it a problem. But I have some scars,’ he smiled, pointing to his lips, ‘so that would probably soothe them a bit.’

Izaya did not dare utter who ‘they’ were, but Celty got whom he was implying. ‘I met Shizuo on the way.’

His lips slightly twitched, but he put a grin on them instantly. ‘Well, what a pity. Hope your day wasn’t ruined that much.’

‘He seemed preoccupied when found out about those rumours… That I now see are true.’

‘Oh so the news spreads this quickly?’ Izaya laughed, yet mirthlessly. ‘And what exactly are those? That I cannot walk?’

‘Yes.’

‘Let’s just hope those who would benefit from this won’t find me, then. Here,’ he reached in his pocket and took out a few notes. ‘A small bonus for the speed, also. And for not telling the beast where I am.’

However, she gave the extra notes back. ‘I do not get paid for not saying something, unlike you.’

He smiled. ‘With what you brought, I can get paid for actually saying something.’

‘Just don’t piss off the wrong people, okay?’ she moved her hand, and Izaya could read that she was sincerely worried to some extent.

‘Thank you for your concern.’

She nodded and moved back, with her black smoke pulling the door so that it closed between them.

When a click echoed, Izaya rushed ahead to lock the door and put the chain in its place. He knew it was ridiculous to try to stop anyone with a petty chain, but it added some peace to his inflamed mind.

So Shizuo knew that he couldn’t walk. It wasn’t the end of the world, and it also gave a chance that the beast wouldn’t go look for him anymore, but that irrational reaction to _he seemed preoccupied_ annoyed him. Why did she even need to say that? Was it just her being pissed off at what he had done to them all and to her personally, and trying to have at least some revenge? Probably not, but… She wasn’t human after all, so second guessing her motives would prove useless after all this time.

Well, he surely wouldn’t come. He was a monster, but a straightforward one, not the one that would lurk eerily in the darkness before attacking when you least expect. No, you’d hear him screaming your name from a kilometre away. That definitely was a plus.

…No matter what, the paranoia just wouldn't leave. On the verge of his mind, there was this flickering _‘what if…’_

Anyway, he had work to do. He reached for his all-in-one, and noticed that it was thoughtful of Celty to also fetch the mouse and the keyboard. Well, at least _someone_ in this city knew what they were doing.

He put the PC on the kitchen table and plugged the power cord in. Connecting the phone, he turned tethering on, so that he could have at least some access to the internet. It should be sufficient for the time being, he thought, looking at the loading screen in anticipation.

What he had on Akukibi wasn’t much – but it was something he could start with. Their leader had a sixteen years old daughter. Trying getting closer to her might have been dangerous, as he would probably be eliminated as a probable threat. He had to be more delicate. Maybe if he could find a way to…

He smiled, and opened one of the numerous messengers he used.

Half the job was done. And, talking even to such a small pawn would give him control over the situation. The chance to witness the show as well, were he lucky enough.

Izaya even felt like he would be able to go asleep again, as the comfort tiredness washed over him. He put his computer into the sleep mode, and moved to the bedroom.

* * *

That afternoon he received a call from the pawn he had talked in the morning.

‘It is done. The bitch is where you told. So that he can take her if he’s smart enough. Now we’ll call the asshole.’

‘Good. May I join?’

‘Well we use the app, gotta install that.’

‘I have many, maybe I have this one.’

‘`Kay I’ll give you the link. You can download it there anyways. Usernames and anything are hidden.’

Grinning, Izaya clicked the link in the message and connected to the call. It was almost too easy.

‘Hey you. Sadao or whatever your fuckheads name you, licking your feet. Or ass,’ there was a dull laughter. ‘Guess what we’ve got?’

‘Before I try,’ Izaya heard a deep, harsh voice, ‘who exactly are you?’

‘No use knowing that. Much useful to know what we have.’

‘And what do you have, may I ask?’

The voice was somehow too cold for Izaya’s liking. Too calm. But the man probably didn’t know what was going on.

Then there was a weak moan.

‘Oi, recognise that, you dipshit?’

‘No idea.’

‘Alright, Juu, make her speak.’

The girl screamed shortly, as if being punched, and said quietly and obediently, ‘Dad…’

‘You,’ the voice grew colder, if that was even possible. ‘You’d better let her go.’

‘Or what? You gonna rush here and pretend you’re strong? We know you took the place paying the police. That’s not how the business is done here, go back to your shithole. Here, the strongest survives.’

‘So in what way kidnapping a girl is strong?’

‘Well at least it’s smart. You either leave this area or you receive her head.’

‘I’ve paid the police, you said so yourself.’

‘Yeah but will it matter then?’

The response was silence.

‘So, you have three minutes. To decide, y`know? So think fast.’

Izaya opened the other messenger on his PC. He pasted the prepared text and filled in the address. He hoped the message would reach the receiver on time and that the latter wouldn’t miss it being too agitated.

A dozen seconds later, the cold voice spoke again.

‘Think you’re smart? I know where you are.’

‘Oh do you?’

‘Choosing an izakaya close to the one I own was probably the dumbest thing you could ever do. You could let her go, but now I’ll just end you.’

‘How the fuck do you know?!’ spitted one of the men, and there was a rustling sound. ‘Oh I get it. Okay. Nothing to lose then.’

There was a girl’s scream, interrupted with wheezing. ‘Fuck you. And fuck you too, you scum.’

The call cut off, and on Izaya’s screen there suddenly was a list of users that had taken part.

‘Oh,’ he said under his breath. ‘Shit.’


	3. Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘What on earth have you done?!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wait what is it really a new chapter after just a week?????? I'm in shock, too. it is, again, kind of an interlude, but we'll get to the main thing soon

It wasn't really like Izaya had ever left any traces before – an own VPS, using VPN, end-to-end encryption in every app he used, onion routing, and such. His nicknames also weren’t the ones ringing a bell in anyone. Still, one could never be too careful.

He wouldn't be tracked, he told himself, but to no avail. What if they knew? What if they _could_ get through all the precautions he had taken? They were yakuza, after all, and ones of those that valued intelligence and cunning over brutal force. Even if they were one of the best at the latter. At that point, Izaya wasn’t even sure that Sadao wouldn’t find the Lions’ location in time if he didn’t send the address directly. He might have won a second or two of time – and put himself in danger.

The plan was easy, to send the Lions after Sadao’s daughter, and then disclose their location to Akukibi before they do anything. Like he was just minding his own business, but then saw them grab the girl or whatever, and decided to help. He saw now that it was _too_ easy, even for the Lions, the dumb, as they always put in their names, 44 group, that is notorious for being chaotic and disorganised… Yet the Fifth son was smart enough to grab Izaya back into the bucket full of crabs.

There was always a chance to be tracked. Izaya imagined how the crowd would storm into his flat, grab him by the arms, throw on the floor and dealt with him, quick and clean. Or they would do it slowly and dirty – they weren’t consistent in their ways. They adapted to the situation.

It was supposed to be a way to gain a morsel of their trust, not the fury of the entire organisation. He still didn’t know what happened to the girl, but he could guess by the disgusting and unnerving sound of her gasping for air, and her voice the second later seeping through the hole in her throat…

His actions had never actually led to anyone’s death before. He bit on his thumb. It was – he was –

Repugnant.

He left abhorrent. Still, he had to do something. He looked at his phone again.

* * *

Shizuo just couldn’t let go of the thoughts about the flea. Yes, he _had_ wanted him dead. But wanting something and actually trying to achieve it are two different things. He thought that maybe all the people have once or twice in their lives _wanted_ someone dead, but they never _tried_ to kill anyone. Well, some obviously did. But Shizuo wasn’t sure they could be even considered human.

That conversation with Celty had put his mind at ease for some time, but now he was anxious again. What if these rumours were true? Or, if they were false, what if the situation was even worse?

The image of paralysed Izaya flashed before his eyes once and again. Or such of a leg-amputated, or of being linked to a ventilator or a vital signs monitor or an IV drop… or of even dead Izaya.

He didn’t fancy any of them.

* * *

‘Ah, hello. I'll be quick. I have a question for you, which is more of a request actually. It will sound weird, but you probably know where I can find a bodyguard?’

‘What? _The_ Ikebukuro Informant is asking for information? I should mark the day on the calendar.’

‘Ha-ha. If being serious, I’ve got into some big trouble here, and I would really need assistance.’

‘What exactly happened?’

‘Long story short, I made the Akukibi leader really angry.’

‘Oh,’ exhaled Shinra.

He shrugged. ‘Yes.’

‘So you’re in K. now?’

‘Now yes, but I think that with such men after me I will have to constantly be going. At least until I find a proper bodyguard. Shinra, it's an urgent matter.’

‘Well, with your situation a have an option for you, but neither him nor you will agree.’

‘What are you… _No_ ,’ he felt shivers running up his spine. His vivid dreams and paranoid thoughts flushed over him. Shinra could not be serious.

‘There's no other way, Orihara-kun. You of all people should know how dangerous and ubiquitous Akukibi men are. And what exactly have you even done?’

Izaya ignored his question. ‘And how are you going to tell the beast into this, even if I agree?’ he felt his hands trembling again.

‘I will not. You have to.’

‘You offer me to show up in Ikebukuro?’ Izaya laughed mirthlessly.

‘You want to be safe, don't you? From what I've heard, you look quite… miserable now. Even Shizuo will not beat you.’ Izaya heard him smile. ‘At least I think so. Or I may try talking to him prior to your arrival so that he won't kill you on sight.’

‘And how exactly do you want me to persuade him to help me? He loathes me, we loathe each other. However much I offer him, he will not agree. If I try to push on his humane side, he will just get angry. Saying ‘Look what you've done to me, you owe me one’ will only make things worse.’

‘You never know until you try.’

‘I _know_ the beast, Shinra.’

‘You thought so until that time, do you still?’

Izaya pondered on that and sighed.

‘Do I really have no other option? I could afford a few bodyguards.’

‘Akukibi specialize in strength. Shizuo is the best option, even though I myself do not really like that.’

He fell silent for a long moment. ‘Alright. I will notify you upon my arrival to Ikebukuro.’

‘No charge for you here. I don't want Akukibi to tear you apart. In their case, literally.’

‘Thank you. Bye.’

‘Wait – maybe I’ll sent Celty for you? Just to be sure. She won’t agree to become your bodyguard, but to protect you during the transfer is quite normal.’

‘How long will it take her to get here? I’d like to depart as soon as possible.’

‘What _on earth_ have you done?!’

‘I… I think I got his daughter killed.’

There was silence. And a few taps.

‘Half an hour. She’s close.’

‘Thank you, Shinra,’ he somehow even meant it.

‘Just – just don’t die till she gets to you.’

Izaya hung up and laid hands in his lap. They still shuddered strongly.

* * *

‘You ready?’ asked Celty.

‘Sort of,’ he had his few belongings nearby the chair. ‘Shinra offered me to hire Shizu-chan as a bodyguard. Isn't that funny?’

She typed, ‘Not really.’

‘No, if you think about it. So. I think Shinra didn’t explain anything. Why I called you in the first place. I have to be going for some time, and then I have to go to Ikebukuro. Could you assist me?’

She nodded. ‘The price is usual.’

‘Sure. Though, I don't know what to do with my wheelchair. Even if we success in getting me on your bike, I can't move without it. And the PC.’

‘I could carry it behind us,’ said the type. ‘Just like I did with the PC, yes.’

‘You can? That would be great.’

‘So where do you want to go?’

‘I've rented a room in Y. I'd like to stay there for a couple of days and think everything through.’

‘You expect me to stay with you?’

‘That would be very nice of you. Listen, why don't I hire you as a bodyguard?’

‘I would not agree.’

‘Pity. Shinra said as much. Yet that would be beautiful. An informant and his mythical bodyguard.’

‘I do not like the things you do.’

‘But you help me now. For a charge, of course, but you do.’

‘…’ was an answer. Izaya laughed.

‘Okay, let's get me on your bike. This will be a show.’

‘No,’ typed Celty and moved her hand in the air. The shadows on the ground elongated and became three-dimensional. They moved towards Izaya and lifted him gently from his wheelchair, moved towards the bike and placed carefully on it.

‘I'm impressed,’ said Izaya.

‘You're not really,’ and she handed him a helmet that was made from the shadows in a few seconds. His belongings were surrounded by a black matter in form of a bag, and placed beside them.

He shrugged and put the helmet on. Celty sat on the bike before him, and he dared hug her from behind. She was soft and warm, like a human being would be. Everything about her looked human when she was in her helmet, but still you could sense _something_ was off.

‘Is there a chance you could talk to Shizuo?’

She just shrugged, not bothering with reaching for her phone again, and started the bike. It moved quickly but silently, like a whisper. Izaya felt the wind, and sun beamed in his eyes, making him wince.

‘I… know you don’t like what I do. I know probably no one does. And after what happened not an hour before, I’m not sure I like it anymore. Whatever I did before, the consequences have never been so… dire. I –’ he couldn’t finish as he saw a blaze from the right. Celty reacted instantly, with shadows forming a wall, and sped up. He heard a few more shots, and then a roar of an engine. Behind them was a van, and from the window of it hung a man in a mask. He had an impressive gun in his hands.

‘We have to leave the district. They have the police here, but their influence isn’t infinite,’ he told Celty, and she nodded. People around them screamed and ran, being afraid of getting in the way, but the guy behind them didn’t shoot any more. He probably waited to get closer, and Celty’s shadows dancing crazily like a weird cape were a distraction.

They turned to a narrow alley, and Izaya saw a dead end – which would be a problem were he with a regular carrier. The bike as if jumped to the side, and the wheels touched the wall. After the high fence was passed, Celty moved the bike back to the asphalt, and they continued their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lion in Japanese is mainly just a ‘lion’ in katakana (ライオン, ra-i-o-n), but there is also a Chinese guardian lion (and at the same time a synonym for a ‘lion’), 「獅子」, which is read like [shi-shi], which is also the way 4-4 (four-four, not forty-four) is read, and 4 is read the same way as death (死) , so it is all kinda lined up (like ‘yay we’re Lions but we’re also death-death’), but it is dumb, just like the Lions themselves. And in the previous chapter you could see the nickname '44goro,' which is basically 'the fifth son of the lion' (or of death-death lol).


	4. Calm down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Hello, Orihara Izaya. Thought you were the smartest one?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have I said it would be a slow write? I LIED APPARENTLY

Izaya’s new rented flat was even smaller than the latter, but he cared not. After trying to no avail to persuade Celty to stay, he let her go with a sigh, and locked the door. He didn’t bother plugging his PC in, for in that flat there was no internet connection. 

So he just sat there, biting on his knuckle and pondering. Shinra was right, only a mutualism of him and Shizuo would be able to survive. Akukibi had too much influence. He wouldn’t be able to leave the country. Before – yes, just to cross dress or something, but a wheelchair was too much of a distinctive thing. All he could do was try to protect himself from the constant threat of being killed. 

He probably didn’t have much time. His debit cards were all on fake names, but he had been convinced before that no precautions would stop Akukibi from detecting him. He had to decide whether to try to reach the beast or not.

After almost half an hour of calculating the possible outcomes, he took one of his phones out of the inside pocket and turned it on. Would it be better to write or to call? Deciding on mail, Izaya typed a few words, then erased them and tried again, and again. All the words seemed wrong, as if they would make Shizuo suddenly appear in the room with a road sign in his hands, ready to punch and kick.

Finally, he suppressed his irrational fear and sent the message that was the most appropriate from his point of view.

* * *

‘What _THE FUCK_?!’ Shizuo jumped up in his chair, making Tom shudder and almost drop the coffee cup he was holding. Seeing his questioning look, Shizuo tried to restrain himself. ‘It’s– it’s the flea. He wants something from me.’

‘What can he possibly need from you?’

‘I have no idea,’ he stood up.

‘But you’re going to check anyways?’

Shizuo just growled instead of answering, and left the café. 

He had to take a bus, if he remembered correctly how to get to Y. There was no one at the bus stop, so he had all the time to himself without people’ chatter annoying him. Izaya’s message was too weird, even for him. It could – there was always the chance – have been a trap, but actually, Shizuo thought, it was either that the flea wanted to commit suicide so he organised a trap, or that he didn’t lie when started the message with a simple ‘I need _your_ help,’ with ‘your’ emphasised in katakana. While he waited, he tried to choose which one was more likely, and there was an unexpected idea in his mind.

‘I’ve received a weird message from the flea. He said he needs help. You know anything about it?’ and he sent the message.

He got the reply when he had already boarded the bus. Opening the mail, he read the first couple of lines, and his shoulders twitched in a mixture of emotions.

* * *

Izaya thought that it was a bad idea to give the beast his address, but he felt he had no other choice. When his doorbell rang, he shivered.

‘Yes?’

‘Oi,’ it was Shizuo’s voice, so Izaya opened the door reluctantly. Shizuo stepped into the tiny room and looked around, probably expecting to see a turret or something alike. When he saw none, his glaze turned back to Izaya. ‘So what do you want from me?’

‘I… I need a bodyguard.’

‘So? Hire one.’

‘That is exactly what I am trying to do,’ he said quietly. Shizuo waited a split second for a reply and then laughed.

‘What is it that you reach for _me_ , like goddamn saying that it’s my help you need specifically? What the hell,’ he laughed again, harder this time, and suddenly bent forward. Izaya reacted before he could think.

The knife was stopped by a metal lighter, and all mirth left Shizuo’s face. ‘I see,’ he tried to grab Izaya’s coat, but he pushed the wall and moved to the open bathroom door. The beast followed, but there was too little space in the room, so they ended up too close for Izaya’s liking. He heard the pitch in his ears, and blacked out for a second. When he blinked, he saw Shizuo on the floor, holding at his own shin. Blood leaked from the apparent gash. Not giving him a chance to recover, Izaya moved out of the bathroom and closed the door. It would not stop Shizuo, but, according to the amount of blood, the cut was deep enough to immobilise him for some time.

‘I’ll give you some time to think. I know you hate this phrase, but please calm down. I am being serious here, I–’

He heard a creak of the entrance door, but before he could even turn his head, his hands were grabbed, and he was rudely turned around, the wheels scratching the floor. There was a light directed at his eye after a second, blinding him, and someone grabbed his cheeks.

‘Hello, Orihara Izaya. Thought you were the smartest one?’

Izaya tried to close his left eye, but one of the other men pulled on his skin so that his eyelids wouldn’t connect.

‘Oh don't worry, you little thing. We’re not going to kill you. Not here, at least. No, death you’ll find salvation eventually. But we won’t let you die. We’ll give you food and water – and if you refuse to consume, we’ll feed you. We’ll heal the worst wounds. We’ll make your existence, which will quite soon become unbearable, as long as possible. You’ll beg for death. But we won’t listen. You see, this isn’t just some matter of revenge or other petty things, no. It’s a personal insult now, and we do take personal insults seriously. We know you're somewhat famous in Ikebukuro, but here we are not as dumb. So you basically don’t fit. Sorry, the standards here are higher than in that hole of yours.’

All the time he spoke, the light flashed violently into Izaya’s left eye, making him see bokeh everywhere and being scared of actually losing sight on the eye. When he didn’t give any reply to the monologue, the man’s hand squeezed his face stronger.

‘So, maybe we’ll leave something for your friends? If you have any,’ and he and the men around laughed teasingly. ‘I wonder if anyone notices your disappearance anyway. Will anyone be sad when we rape your body and soul? I doubt it. But let’s leave something for them nevertheless,’ he took a knife from one of his companions. ‘Maybe, a tongue? No, we won’t hear the words you’d never thought you would utter in your life then. Fingers? Or maybe just nails? Or an eye? Oh to lose such a pretty face, even if already scarred, might be heartbreaking. And we want just that. To break you down.’

‘Can’t demolish what’s been blown up already,’ Izaya finally spoke. The man smiled.

‘You’re a sharp tongue, huh? Ever wanted a split? Seen that weird movie where a girl wanted to have her tongue split? She changed the size of the gauges in her tongue, so that in the end there would be just a thin piece to cut. Maybe we should pierce your tongue,’ his gloved thumb pressed on Izaya’s lower lip, making him shudder in disgust, ‘and put the thread in. And then pull. Slowly. They say you die if your tongue is cut off and there is no proper care, but we will provide the best service, don’t you worry.’

There was no way Izaya could talk out of this. He glanced to the side, at the door behind which Shizuo laid, and thought that maybe no one indeed would be sad if he died. The cut in his shin wasn’t _that_ bad for him to be missing the show, so he probably just fancied what he heard. He seemed deeply insulted by Izaya’s offer, after all.

‘Or we might cut out one of your testicles – or maybe even two of them. You won’t need them anyway. But the other parts of yours may be useful,’ and there was an abhorrent smile on his face, which Izaya couldn’t see behind the mask but guessed based on how twisted the eyes of the man became. ‘With those legs you won’t be able to kick hard enough – but we would just break them in such a case. You know, it is _much_ better in the back. Women are–’

He never got a chance to finish, for the bathroom door was torn out the hinges, probably knocking down the guy that stood close. Izaya could only judge by the sounds, as the man holding his face dragged him back, pushing him into the wall face first, his feet dangling above the floor. He could feel something hard against his nape – apparently, a gun. Well, at least he would die fast and without disgusting shame crawling into his mind.

Izaya heard gunshots and Shizuo’s growl; after a second that felt way too long, the thing at his nape disappeared, and he was released from the grip. He tried grabbing the wall to soften the fall, but there was no need for that, as he was caught in the middle. 

He turned his head.

In Shizuo’s hand there was a towel dryer rack, and it, just as his face, was covered in blood. His eyes, though, were strangely calm.

‘You okay?’ he asked. Izaya just stared. ‘Hey. Izaya?’

He blinked and could only whisper, ‘Why?’

‘What? You wanted me to just lie there? The first moment I could stand up I got here. They are some sick fuckoos. Eck,’ he threw the rack on the floor, and, as carefully as his blunt strength allowed, sat Izaya back into his chair. ‘Okay. I’ll take the deal.’

Izaya’s eyes widened a bit, but for some reason all he could do was just stare. 

‘Hey,’ Shizuo said in slight annoyance, ‘will you stop ignoring me?’

And then he understood. He was frozen in panic, with Shizuo just _smashing_ everyone in the room as if it was no big deal, and then _touching_ him with his hands covered in blood droplets. Even if not to break his neck but to help him, it was–

Izaya felt he was suffocating. There were probably tears on his cheeks, for he felt something wet and warm there, but maybe it was just that some blood had got there… He didn’t know.

He blacked out again.


	5. Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The scene was almost surreal; like one you would see in a horror film late at night on television.

Shizuo was the one who had seen many things and had been through some stuff, and he thought nothing could shock him anymore, not after his abnormal daily life in Ikebukuro. However, seeing _tears_ running down the cheeks of a person he never thought capable of crying – that was weird.

‘Um,’ he started, looking around and trying to guess what had stressed Izaya so much. ‘They ain’t dead. They may be if the help doesn’t come, but I can call the ambulance on our way out. And – the blood is –’

Still, Izaya stared into nothingness, as if he wasn’t there at all. His shoulders didn’t twitch like those of a crying person; it was only tears that indicated something was wrong. Shizuo looked at the guy who received the most damage. The one with a gun, that had had Izaya pinned to a wall. He had open fractures of his fingers and wrists, and that was the main source of blood in the room. He wouldn’t die anyway, Shizuo thought. Such guys do not feel _that_ much pain. 

The place was a mess, but as enraged as he was when stormed into the room, he tried to minimise collateral damage. He didn’t hold back only with the guy that had been speaking.

‘No, they won’t die really,’ he muttered to reassure Izaya again, even though doubting his own words now, observing the guy once more. ‘Hope the landlord has a strong gut. And a lot of detergent.’

 _Maybe he’s just in shock like all normal people would be after such a confrontation_ , he thought. _But no, he’s anything but normal._

Without invitation, Shizuo sat on the bed and waited a bit, looking around. It was almost austere, not much better than his own flat. Izaya must have been in a real rush to choose an accommodation like this, knowing him and his lavishly posh previous flat. There really wasn’t much, but probably Izaya never planned to stay there for long in the first place.

The latter was still sitting near the corner, tears no longer running down his thin face, only with wet traces left to dry; the blood from the talkative guy’s broken arm slowly crawling towards one of the wheels. The scene was almost surreal; like one you would see in a horror film late at night on television; a dishevelled Izaya, shuddering, and blood everywhere around him. It seemed impossible with this much blood the guys would live, Shizuo finally though. Still, he somehow wasn’t too bothered, even though not a couple of days ago he had said he was not a murderer, and the thought of becoming one had always disgusted him. He felt so much aversion to those guys his initial feeling dissolved, not in order to protect Izaya or anything –

That might have been a lie, he thought. He loathed the man, used to want him dead, but never, as he saw now, _truly._ It had been a routine of a kind already, to scream threats and chase Izaya down the crowded streets – but eventually people just stopped being afraid or calling the police, for they knew Shizuo was actually never serious. If he had ever in fact caught the running irritant, he would beat him up – but that would be it. Everyone knew that, and now, Shizuo, too. It felt weird.

‘You got an elevator at your place?’ suddenly, the flea was back, or at least it seemed so. There was still some tension to his face, and he avoided looking both around the room and at Shizuo’s face, his glance concentrated somewhere on the latter’s shoulders.

‘Huh?’

‘It is a yes or no question, could you possibly muster enough intelligence to reply?’

Shizuo frowned, but not from anger. Izaya’s arrogance seemed… feigned. Too much, really, like if he was watching a cheap TV drama.

‘Only an old freight elevator, and it’s locked. The landlord has the keys.’

‘Well I hope they don’t mind _an old friend_ of yours using it to go up.’

‘Wait, what? You going to my place now?’

‘I have to think. It just looks like they can follow me _everywhere_. I have numerous cards on fake names, numerous cells, but it is all to no use, as it seems. They just know where I am, so I can’t rent a flat, or even buy anything.’

‘But you gotta have cash? Or just withdraw some and go to the different district or whatever.’

‘As if I haven’t thought of that. I don’t know how fast they react. They might just have some low-level pawn see me at the ATM, and then they’ll be after me. They might have a vast network of people you wouldn’t even think are linked to them. Listen,’ he sighed and looked at Shizuo for the first time, ‘I just need some time to ponder. If I simply get to your place it will be safe, or at least I believe so.’

‘Maybe then I’ll withdraw the money?’

‘And lead them no me? No thanks. I have to transfer some to one of the accs but it has to be protected from tracing…’ he brought his hand to his chin, apparently thinking everything through. ‘Ah. I know the way. Better if I do it here. Doing such things in public places is just dumb, and waiting to get to your place might be dangerous,’ he reached for his phone.

‘Such things? Are you up to anything illegal?’

‘Not really, just some cryptocurrency. Some use it for illegal things, yes, as the transaction is untraceable,’ he was scrolling the screen, but Shizuo couldn’t really see what was on it. He looked around again, as if remembering where they were.

‘Maybe we’d better leave?’

‘Just a second,’ Izaya seemed concentrated, and after a few moments he switched his phone to standby. Then he reached into his inside pockets and pulled numerous cells and handed them towards Shizuo. ‘Can you break them?’

Shizuo shrugged and was about to reach out, but Izaya threw them on the floor and quickly twitched his hands back, them shivering slightly. After a second of dumbfounded staring, Shizuo got what was implied and trod on the phones, smashing them to smithereens; Izaya was already heading past him to the exit. 

‘Do you want me to call an ambulance?’ he followed.

‘Don’t bother. Their people will probably be here soon enough. Oh, I forgot to discuss the terms. Later, now is not the time really.’

* * *

Izaya had to take a train, for Shizuo said he didn’t have enough cash on him to afford a taxi, and the single card his brother gave him had been left at home. He was grateful for the underground line he boarded being rather uncrowded, as he could find a spot in the corner and keep distance from the beast. Still, he felt uncomfortable, sensing people staring at him. It might have been simply because of how he looked – not the wheelchair, really, but more of him being seemingly nervous and almost paranoid; constantly looking around with his eyebrows twitching. He probably seemed suspicious in a sense of _him_ being a threat and not some batshit psychos chasing him.

Speaking about chasing, Izaya dismissed the thought of people staring because of Shizuo standing a couple of metres far from him. They were too far from any place where the Ikebukuro Monster was known well enough. Maybe it was because he was holding a PC, which indeed was a weird sight.

Were they really looking, or was it just his imagination? He couldn’t tell, and – possibly – returning the glance was too frightening, so he just stared at his feet, contemplating. One could say he had killed a person; he himself thought he had. He didn’t feel like betraying his ideals or anything like it – he simply felt utter disgust. Sensing a tug at the back of his throat, he with an effort turned his toes inwards as a protective move, and suddenly felt a heavy stare and raised his head. The beast was glaring at him in what looked like disbelief. Izaya tilted his head to the side, frowning. Shizuo looked away.

The rest of the ride Izaya spent looking at people – not at their faces, as usual, but just trying to read their body language in order to try and catch a possible threat in time. There was none, so when the train reached the needed station, he left the carriage with a light sigh. He did not let Shizuo help him – not like the latter was eager to anyway.

The place was not far from the station, so in about ten minutes Izaya saw an old block of flats, with small wooden windows and its slightly askew walls that hadn’t been painted for what seemed a hundred years.

‘Wait a bit,’ the beast said before going up the stairs and knocking on the door made as if of plywood. It opened, but Izaya couldn’t see the person inside, as the landlord was too short. He heard a fascinated voice of an old woman, and thanks to the quiet neighbourhood, he could hear it well.

‘Ah, Heiwajima-kun, you’re finally having a friend stay over? I bet she is cute, and surely has a lot of luggage as you need an elevator, if it even works still, he-he-he.’

Shizuo started a reply, but the landlord had already come to the parapet to see for herself. When saw Izaya, she only released a light ‘oh.’

‘He’s a classmate of mine,’ the beast was finally able to utter, rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Good day to you, lady,’ Izaya grinned sweetly and waved at her. She quickly returned the smile. ‘I am Maeda Akifumi,’ he ignored Shizuo’s head turning briskly at him.

‘Good day to you too, my boy. Oh, let me get the keys,’ and with a shuffle of her sleepers she went back to her flat, only to return soon enough. She started chattering, going down the stairs, limping a bit, ‘It is really rare to see anyone come to Heiwajima-kun, you know? He said you’re classmates, so you’ve probably known him for a long time, right, Maeda-kun?’

‘Indeed,’ he followed her to the elevator that was closed behind metal bars. The beast was a few steps behind.

‘No one’s used it for I don’t even know how long. I really do hope it’s still working. I’ll open it up for you and then go turn the switch. You know, just don’t have it on most of the time. No use.’

‘Yes, and it is also safer this way,’ he decided to keep up the conversation, ‘Short circuit protection.’

‘Yes, yes. Alright, boys, it will be operating in a minute. Or so I hope, he-he-he,’ and she left.

When she was far enough, Shizuo grunted. ‘Akifumi? What the hell?’

‘Choose the first one for yourself. The rest is history,’ Izaya said nonchalantly.

‘Oh you must be so proud of yourself for this one,’ he rolled his eyes. The elevator buzzed suddenly.

‘I’m surprised you actually got it. Or that you know kanji at all, Shizu-chan.’

‘Yeah, like your name isn’t the one that is read the most non-standard way possible. Fuck off.’

Being in the ancient elevator was a bit stressing, but even if they did fall, at least it wouldn’t be too high. Being somewhat close to the beast was much more unnerving, but Izaya didn’t want to show that.

Shizuo’s flat was the most basic one, but still bigger than the last one Izaya had rented.

‘I’d tell you to feel at home, but I won’t,’ Shizuo took his shoes off and turned to Izaya. ‘Need any help,’ he nodded towards his shoes.

‘No, go ahead. I can take care of myself.’

‘Yeah, sure. That’s exactly why you’re here.’

It didn’t take him long, as he was getting quite used to his new routine. Getting up from the genkan was harder, but he found a coat rack standing nearby useful enough as a support. He followed the beast into the room and saw his computer at the desk; Shizuo sat at the kitchen table, hands crossed. ‘So you wanted to discuss the terms?’

‘I did. I have a few rules. First,’ he bent his thumb, ‘You obviously have to protect me. You’ve heard them, they won’t just let me go easily. Second, if I order you something, you do as told. No making you an errand boy, don’t worry. Third. You do not touch me. Unless I ask to, but that probably won’t happen.’

Shizuo rolled his eyes again.

‘Then, the payment. I don’t know what they’re capable of, so it might change, but let’s start with 200 000 yen.’

If the beast was drinking, he would probably choke on his milk or whatever.

‘You serious?!’

‘Well I don’t wanna die, and I value myself quite high.’

‘Yeah, that I know.’

‘As I cannot use my cards at the moment, and if at the first payment I still won’t be able to, you’ll have to create a special wallet, so I transfer the money there. It won’t be tracked. Payment will be weekly, so fifty thousand a week.’

There was a decipherable emotion on Shizuo’s face. ‘Okay. I’ve already told you I agree.’

‘Good.’

‘No contract or anything?’

‘Will you be able to sign it?’

‘Fuck off,’ he scoffed, but chuckled lightly.

‘Now if you don’t mind, I have to think. Just don’t bother me.’

The beast shrugged.

* * *

Sleeping on futon was both humiliating and uncomfortable after Shizuo's bed, and he was irritated, especially by the fact that the flea was near him, and he could not do anything about it beside putting up with it.

Shizuo thought about how on Earth could he agree to partake in such an affair. What had been leading his words before that he could not tell. He thought about it being pity, but skipped the thought, as he felt – or at least thought he did – no pity towards Izaya. Other options did not seem likely, too. The only one that Shizuo accepted was that he had lost his mind for a second and said yes without Izaya even having to persuade him. The money was a bonus, but Shizuo had never been a greedy man. Maybe he would go explore the world after this all ended.

The sleep would not come. He laid, staring at the ceiling and sometimes moving his head to look at Izaya's wheelchair just to check if what was happening was real. The day was mostly a blur. Izaya just sat in his chair until the sun began to set, and then he addressed Shizuo to ask about having anything to eat. Shizuo, of course, wasn’t a chef, but even he could not spoil udon with some pre-cooked tonkatsu. Whether Izaya did like it or not, he didn’t show.

Shizuo, of course, tried to help him get onto the bed. He hated the flea, but had some – he would not call it pity, again, but there was some kind of feeling in the back of his mind that told him to act humane to his enemy. What surprised him was Izaya's reaction. He shrank and stopped Shizuo with his thin shuddering hands. ‘I can do this myself,’ he said, and with some kind of grace moved from the chair onto the bed using his hands. Probably for him it would be humiliating, to accept Shizuo's help in such a matter – now who was humiliated was Shizuo, sleeping near the bed like a guarding dog.

He was one, if you think about it. A giant and strong guarding dog. Like a Tibetan mastiff.

Shizuo grinned and turned to his back, now looking at the chair without moving his eyes from it. Did he really beat Izaya that bad, or was it just another fraud? He would not dare check it.

Some time later, he looked at the clock. It was two past midnight, so he had been lying there, sleepless, for more than an hour now. Izaya probably was asleep, his calm breathing quiet but loud enough to hear it in the silence of the room.

What had Shizuo to do with his life now? Working for Izaya hell knows how long was not a nice perspective, even though he would be paid generously. What would Celty say? She probably would not approve of that. They all knew how dangerous and sly Izaya was – yet Shizuo still agreed to help him. Maybe it was that ‘humane’ feeling in his consciousness.

After a few more minutes of thinking he finally fell asleep. Only to be awakened after what felt like a second of slumber by a scream – no, a wail of Izaya. Shizuo quickly sat up to see Izaya sitting in his bed, his hands in his hair, and – what, _again_? – tears running down his face. His breath was not calm anymore, and he was stuttering something, too mumbling for Shizuo to understand.

He decided to leave it be, and quietly lied down again. What the hell was happening inside that insane head was none of his business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took me so long ;_; I've applied for a second education so now I'm desperately trying to fit everything into my schedule
> 
> also on that Izaya's joke on the name: it's just that in Akifumi the second kanji can be "history", like in 「歴史」, which is also "history". I guess this joke wouldn't be possible in Japanese, don't know if they have the similar phrase, but let's just let it be.


	6. Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘What?’ Shizuo asked, probably gaping.  
> ‘What?’ Izaya echoed.

To Shizuo’s surprise, the flea wasn’t very talkative; he didn’t even try to be annoying, just sat in his chair, staring at some point on the floor, his chin resting in his open palm. The second day of them spending time together – to say which would be an exaggeration, for they didn’t interact in any way – at Shizuo’s home was going by just like the previous, without any words pronounced. Shizuo watched TV at a low volume, spread lying on his side on an old sofa, but at midday he was bored and tired of that already, so he turned the thing off and tilted his head to look at Izaya. There was a scar going down from his lower lip to his chin on the left side of his face. He looked thinner than he used to be, cheekbones sharp, and dark shadows around his eyes.

 _‘Aren’t they supposed to feed you well at the hospitals?’_ Shizuo thought.

Also, despite being inside the building, Izaya had his – was it new? – long coat thrown on his shoulders. It had the notorious fur on the sleeves, hood, and the hem. Shizuo recalled seeing flea wearing it some time ago, but it was still either his usual coat or this long one –

 _‘What are you even thinking about?’_ he asked himself, trying hard not to slap his own forehead. There were much more urgent matters present.

Shizuo still had no idea what exactly had Izaya done to be pursued by Yakuza; it wasn't like he was really interested, but to know would be an advantage of a kind. At least he would be informed what Izaya's deed was and how far the guys would go to get him. The flea had said not to bother him, but…

‘Oi,’ Shizuo said quietly.

* * *

‘Oi,’ a low voice tore Izaya from his daydreaming stupor. Not that he was thinking of much; in fact, he tried to distance from reality as much as he could. Yet the beast had other plans.

‘Yes?’

Izaya tried not to provoke him, but was afraid of being noticed doing so. The feeling didn't leave him even when Shizuo a couple of times left the room to smoke or go to the lavatory. It crawled up his bony spine and dug its claws under his spatulas, reaching inside and grabbing his lungs–

He wouldn't give it a name.

‘Why are they following you? Who even are they?’

‘Yakuza,’ Izaya answered, not looking him in the eye.

‘I figured as much. Why are they so pissed off?’

‘Personal issues.’

The beast groaned, but didn't push it.

If Izaya thought about it, Shizuo probably felt some kind of guilt. In the past two days, he didn't break anything in a fit of fury; didn't even touch Izaya. Yes, he had been told not to, but it would be naive to think the beast would follow any orders, Izaya’s especially. Maybe it was due to Izaya avoiding any kind of contact and being, as Shizuo probably thought, much less of an asshole than usual.

The beast seemed bored after only two days of being locked inside his own house, like any wild animal would be if imprisoned. TV had only indulged him for an hour once in a while; reading was not his strong side; so was thinking.

‘Maybe,’ Izaya started, surprised with himself, ‘you can go for a walk?’

‘Yeah, and they'll get you.’

‘They still haven't come.’

Shizuo pondered. Then nodded. ‘I'll just do groceries. Be right back,’ not caring he was in what looked like his home clothes, he put his shoes on and left the small flat. The lock clicked.

 _‘So what am I supposed to do? I cannot just leave the country. Changing the city might help, but I can never be sure. Yes, they might not have strong connections to the police outside of K., but who knows how far their influence goes? And I draw way too much attention now,’_ he looked himself over, shifting his legs slightly. They obeyed, the movements feeling heavy and forced. Izaya knew he had limits to his movement – the beast did not; that was apparently why he had looked so shocked in the train. Maybe he had thought Izaya was just once again fooling everyone.

He _had been_ told he couldn't walk, or even stand for a long time. But he could move his legs. They followed the orders of his mind and will. The whole situation didn't create a picture, as if it was a cat with a fish tail and a head of a bug.

He had what seemed like ten minutes. If he fell, that would be a shitshow, with Shizuo entering the flat and seeing him on the floor. 

Shizuo.

 _‘How stupid can you be to make such a mistake that makes you stuck with a beast, not being able to even make a phone call?’_ he told himself off, and sighed.

* * *

Shizuo passed the shops, not looking at anything in particular, but still paying attention to his surroundings. It was becoming dark quite quickly, and soon the lights would come to life. The bag in his hand was heavy with new stuff.

Nearby one of the shops he suddenly noticed a figure curled up close to a wall – even though not a metre from it was a vacant bench. There was a beanie on this person's head, but Shizuo still could see thin strands of blond hair, and it didn't have a yellow undertone, like his own did from all the bleachings.

 _‘A tourist?’_ he thought, and then saw that the person's shoulders were shuddering, and heard harsh sobs.

‘Hey,’ he approached and kneeled before the person. They slightly raised their head that was turned to the side, and Shizuo saw a green eye. **‘You okay?’** he asked in English, just in case. It was difficult to decipher the person's gender at first, as their face was hidden for the biggest part of it; all he had was an eye.

The person shook their head.

**‘You speak Japanese?’**

‘Only a bit,’ she answered. The voice was rather low, but the person in front of him was definitely a woman.

‘Um… What happened?’

‘An important thing… **Lost.’**

She covered half of her face with her hand, and raised her head a bit more. He noticed in the dim light that she had a scar similar to Izaya’s.

 **‘I can…’** he tried to find a word, **‘search.’**

She shook her head once more.

‘Where are you from?’ he risked asking in Japanese.

‘Denmark,’ she answered. ‘The thing I… **lost** ,’ she apparently didn't know the word, ‘is gone.’

‘Someone stole it?’ She looked puzzled for a second. ‘Um. Took?’

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘Can I help?’

‘No. But thank you. **I feel better.** ’

**‘Sure?’**

‘Yes. Er. **You may leave. I need some time.** Thank you again.’

‘Well I didn't really do anything,’ Shizuo said, standing up and realising she probably hadn't understood. He waved goodbye, not bothering with asking for her name or anything – she probably would lie anyway. She looked too broken to answer the truth to a person she didn't know. And she covered half of her face.

Shizuo, moving towards his way home, instantly had a story in his mind about her being a victim of domestic abuse, and her husband stealing – or worse – her child; he turned away quickly. She was gone.

_‘How did she?..’_

* * *

Even standing took some effort. Still, after some staggering, Izaya found himself being able to hold a comfortable pose. He analysed his senses. There was an alien tension in his muscles, as if something pulled at them. It wasn’t painful, at least. His legs needed some exercise to remain motile.

He tried making a small step, but his right leg wouldn’t listen to his mind, making a weird move to the side. He frowned, and heard the lock clicking again. Not looking at the beast, he sighed and just stood there.

‘What?’ Shizuo asked, probably gaping.

‘What?’ Izaya echoed. ‘I never said I couldn’t stand.’

‘Need some help?’ there was a rustle of a plastic bag and the sound of shoes being dropped.

‘No,’ and, staggering again, he sat back.

‘So you can stand.’

‘How observant of you,’ he couldn’t help but mock Shizuo.

‘But you cannot walk?’

Izaya looked at him. Dumb questions were suddenly irritating.

‘Do you think I would use this otherwise?’ he blurted.

The beast looked abashed. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured after a long pause, and went back to the bag to put everything he had bought into places.

The reality of them being locked together in a small flat where there wasn’t even enough room for any kind of privacy fell down on Izaya’s shoulders. He turned his head and looked at the other sorting out the goods; at how his hand holded a pack of milk – the same way it would hold someone’s arm before breaking it. The image of the day before flashed before Izaya’s eyes. The sensation of a cold gun against his nape; the scream of the guy as his bones were smashed; the room covered in blood; the weak moans; the look of the beast with a pipe in his hand, all covered in blood. It resonated with what had happened about a month ago; even though there hadn’t been as much blood, it had been just as violent.

The pack of milk _should have been_ squeezed, its contents spilling down the floor. It wasn’t. Staring at the beast’s hand, Izaya felt he would vomit. Seeing Shizuo in such an environment and such a calm state was wrong. He was a monster. He hadn’t killed Izaya then, yes, but it didn’t mean he would never do so. It was a constant sense of threat, as if any moment could be the last before Shizuo crying in fury and smashing Izaya against the wall, breaking his spine and leaving an imprint in the shape of his body.

Izaya… loved humans. With all their drawbacks, weaknesses, and fits of rage. However, no fit of rage of a human being could compare to one of that beast. No human could throw a car at him. No human could break the wall with their own body just to get to him. No human would –

An idea that one of his beloved humans would actually kill him there, were they in place of Shizuo, struck him. They wouldn’t stop. They would make a final blow. For if any of the humans suffered enough of Izaya throughout their life, they would do it. Yet Shizuo hadn’t.

It all felt wrong, seeing Shizuo behave like a human being and not like a wild animal, and at the same time restraining the human side that would allow him to kill Izaya after all the years of the latter tampering with his life; ruining it in fact. Shizuo was told he was a monster; yet he was human, and at the same time not entirely. Izaya’s head was about to boil from the controversy.

‘You fine?’

He blinked, and flinched when saw Shizuo standing close to him, bending to be on the same eye level. Before he could think, he rolled back, and his wheelchair kicked the side of the bed. _Had he blacked out?_

The beast noticed his reaction – even he had enough brain cells – and sighed. ‘Listen. If it’s a problem for you to be here, why don’t I withdraw some money far from here and bring it to you? Or you could use that stuff you told about yesterday. I have a card. You could rent something bigger.’

‘What, Shizu-chan,’ he spat, ‘you all of a sudden care about me? Isn’t my discomfort the thing you should fancy?’

Izaya received a heavy stare as an answer.

* * *

_‘Really, why do I care?’_

There was something in the flea’s posture that made Shizuo doubt all his previous actions. He couldn’t see the exact cause, but… Izaya acted pissed off, but all his body _screamed,_ as if he was a prey cornered by a predator. He’s never been in such a state before, at least not when Shizuo could see him. Even that night he tried to provoke Shizuo until the very end. Now all Izaya was doing was trying to avoid him.

He–

He was afraid, Shizuo thought with a shock. His eyes probably widened, as Izaya sent him a confused ‘what,’ but was ignored, as Shizuo stepped back, and again.

_‘Izaya is afraid of me.’_

That was definitely new, but at least it explained what had happened in Y. with the flea staring at him after a rampage. Was he afraid he would be next? Well, if Shizuo could get into an insane head of his, there would be much less problems in his life.

_‘What had he done that, being afraid, he still reached to me to ask for help?’_

‘Izaya-kun,’ he said quietly. ‘I need to know what you’ve done. And who those guys are, exactly.’

‘Will you get lost?’ he lowered his gaze.

‘I’ll ask Shinra, then.’

Izaya’s eyebrows twitched. ‘They are Akukibi,’ he started a-matter-of-fact-ly, ignoring the first question. ‘Their tops are intelligent. The lower levels aren’t dumb, too, but at the same time their to say so major is physical strength.’

‘Didn’t see it there.’

‘I said strength, not the ability to throw fridges.’

‘And why are they angry with you?’

The flea looked at him, and Shizuo’s blood ran cold. There was _pain_ in his eyes.

‘If I tell you, will you leave me alone for the rest of the day?’ and, not waiting for a response, he continued, ‘My actions led to someone important for their boss getting kidnapped. And killed.’

Shizuo didn’t hear anything spat in desperation after that, just gaping at Izaya’s eyes, filled with a mixture of fear, pain, and disgust. Yet it wasn’t Shizuo that he despised, he somehow felt. All his life talking about how he loved humans, Izaya had killed one. It didn’t require too much intelligence to understand what that would lead to.


	7. Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt wrong, but it was so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii a bigger update for my beloved readers <3

It all started to become unbearable. Laying low was one thing; sitting all day locked in four walls not being able to leave was another. It felt like degradation; as if his brain cells were scorching under the cheap lightbulb on the ceiling, breaking down into pieces that went carried away by the breeze from the slightly open window. An infinite source of ash, he felt being, and soon enough the entire flat would be covered in it.

At least Shizuo didn’t bother him anymore. The past days Izaya had been thinking about what he had felt before, admitting that the beast was _not_ in fact fully inhuman. His thoughts had changed their direction a million times already, going from, _‘have I been wrong all this time?’_ to, _‘there is no way this creature has anything human in him,’_ and back and forth. Hypothetical situations with a question _‘would_ _he?’_ in neon had been born in his mind just to die out later; for the beast was unpredictable, but not in the way a person would be; no, he was chaotic – _as if you aren’t,_ was there a shadow of a thought once – to such an extent that a random number generator would be more consistent. The only thing that was constant was Shizuo’s contempt towards Izaya, even if in the last few days he hadn’t expressed any. On the contrary, he was as calm as Izaya had never seen him. The routine seemed to be soothing to him. To Izaya it wasn’t.

Once he even thought about the past; as far as the first moment they had met. Had it been that Izaya deliberately acted in a way that would piss Shizuo off, or had it been more of a usual flow for him already? He couldn’t remember anything except seeing the furious face after the sound of his own ironic plaudits. It would have never been hard to be an annoyance to the beast, that was obvious the moment he saw Shizuo, but hearing, _‘I don’t like him,’_ even before being properly introduced made Izaya build in his mind a whole scheme of premeditated actions that would lead Shizuo to an end he deserved. Beasts should be caged, not set free to bring chaos and destruction to humans. Because of his unpredictability, Izaya had to use the people surrounding Shizuo, for he was the figure on the desk that would not listen to any commands; he would go any possible direction but not the one that he was told. If Izaya tried to move him forward, he would lash to the side, dropping all the figures around him, setting the entire scene on fire. No, he had to be controlled; cornered by all the figures so that he wouldn't be able to move.

Thereafter came, _‘was it really hatred all this time?’_ and that took even longer to answer. They despised each other, that was true – or actually, it was what they both believed. It was more of a habit later, so they just went with the flow, not stopping to think why it was that way. The reason why Shizuo hated him he obviously did not know; not that it bothered him much. It did not matter whether it was just his usual rage looped infinitely or some instinctive sense of what Izaya was up to most of the time. Why Izaya hated him mutually was –

He didn’t know, he found out with a surprise. Was it because he simply got pissed off at the moment of their acquaintance and decided to follow the route; was it because he saw nothing human in Shizuo and disdained the lack thereof; was it because humans would never love him back, and even a monster wouldn’t even if being incapable of it – he did not know. Maybe de just looked down on his dumbness and lack of self-control combined with unnatural strength. Did it really matter, if the way things went by wouldn’t change anyway?

Izaya had never thought about _how exactly_ Shizuo was capable of doing all the abnormal things he did. Why was he so strong? It was probably the first time he had the question in his mind. He had never been interested before – not that the time he pondered he was particularly _interested_ . He even considered the idea of asking the beast for a second, but denied it instantly. It wasn’t possible, he thought, that it had some adequate explanation; it _must_ have been something inhuman. The prior concept of Shizuo being only partly a monster was abandoned eventually; he just couldn’t be a person.

Most of the time at the house that was slowly becoming accustomed, Izaya fancied the inside of his own mind, blacking out from the world; sometimes he would turn his lazy gaze at the TV, staring without any interest at a movie or a show. Shizuo had some books stored in a box under the bed; there were even some decent titles. However, Izaya had read all of them long before. As the days passed, though, the idea of re-reading some became more and more appealing, or he would just go insane in the silent isolation.

One day the beast’s chief called to ask where he was. He said he would miss a couple of weeks – the lack of reaction from the man showed he was used to it. Izaya reflectively wanted to tease, but restrained himself, his intestines twitching at the thought, fear grabbing at his limbs.

Thus, a week passed without any information coming in, as the beast didn’t have a PC, and trying calling anyone would probably equal suicide; then Izaya, as promised, transferred him the priorly negotiated sum of money. Shizuo left the flat to return an hour and a half later with a box. Not uttering anything, he handed it to Izaya, and sat down on the couch. Looking down, Izaya saw it was a laptop. He wasn’t a tech guy really, but judging by the amount of money the beast had received, it wasn’t anything extraterrestrial; still, Izaya lifted his head, his look sending a question.

‘Oh, I forgot,’ Shizuo reached inside his sweatpants – he didn’t wear anything but the last week – pocket and threw a small box at him. Izaya caught it with ease, and before he could examine it, the beast continued, ‘I’ve rented a portable Wi-Fi router for you.’

Izaya stared dumbfoundedly from the box to the beast; the latter sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

‘It is unbearable to look at you. Your bored face is even more annoying than the one you make being an ass.’

‘Oh. Okay,’ he answered quietly, his eyes searching Shizuo’s face, trying to find _something_ that would show any interest he had in buying a laptop for his, if one could say so, archnemesis. There was none. ‘Should I say thanks?’

‘Didn’t know you can do that.’

‘Didn’t know you can tease,’ Izaya deadpanned. 

‘I’ve had an example before my eyes twenty-four hours a day for a week straight. I can learn,’ he shrugged, ‘Even though you weren’t really annoying all these days, I gotta admit.’

‘You’re capable of human dialogue?’

‘Don’t be an ass,’ Shizuo replied without any genuine anger. ‘If you don’t deliberately piss me off I’m fine.’

‘Glad to find out,’ Izaya looked at the laptop again. It was weird, to have no real reaction from the beast on him acting, well, himself. How did Shizuo learn to control himself? Did he even? Was it that _the episode_ had changed something in his amoeba brain? Or was the monster amenable to training or even taming? 

_No._ _  
  
_

* * *

Shizuo was surprised that he indeed hadn’t felt any exasperation. It was weird to spend a whole week near Izaya and not get rabid. Apparently, it was due to the flea being silent most of the time; due to his fear – Shizuo loathed the idea of Izaya being afraid of him, but it seemed to be true. He watched the other’s movements like a cat that is used to getting beaten, with careful neutral gaze; his fingers, usually tapping the arms of his chair, floating still in the air. He was somewhat like a cat – when Shizuo was still, he seemed relaxed, too, and any movement made him visibly anxious.

‘You want something to eat?’ Shizuo asked suddenly even for himself. Izaya hadn’t eaten much before, once a day was his limit. He was thinner than Shizuo remembered him from before. As he didn’t know if Izaya had eaten more earlier, he couldn’t be sure whether his thinness was due to malnutrition or otherwise. 

‘I don’t need that much food right now,’ was an indifferent reply. Izaya started unpacking the laptop, paying little attention to what was around him.

‘A human body requires more calories and nutrients than you’re consuming, you know?’

‘You didn’t miss a biology class for a change?’ he looked up, smiling his usual grin, eyes still being dead, lurid in the light of the day.

‘Get lost,’ Shizuo wagged at him dismissively. ‘After primary I didn’t even miss that much. Unless you were an asshole.’

Izaya laughed at that, yet mirthlessly. ‘When wasn’t I?’

‘True enough,’ Shizuo sighed and rubbed his forehead with his thumb. Everything was the same as it had always been – him easily irritable, and the flea annoying; but talking to the latter – actually talking, not shouting death threats – was somewhat _fun_ even. Yes, Izaya tried to be vexing, but something in Shizuo was seemingly turned off, and the usual rage did not come. Was it guilt that stopped him he didn’t know, but being able to control his anger – or even not feeling any – was definitely a plus. Threats and violence shifted into mutual teasing; it felt wrong, but it was so.

The flea most of the time was calm, as if he wasn’t the one waking up each night and then shifting in bed for two more hours at least. He didn’t scream too often, but even the slightest shuffles of bed linen made Shizuo stir, and when he _did_ scream, it was a mess. It was like what Shizuo could remember from when Kasuka had been an infant, crying in the night for what felt like hours, gagging and choking. 

A couple of times he wanted to ask Izaya what bothered him so much, but the answer was quite obvious, and the reaction to the question was unpredictable. 

‘Why only after primary school?’

With his peripheral vision, Shizuo saw the flea throwing something at him. The laptop plug had landed in his lap before he could react or even process what was aimed at him. He took the thick cord, his eyebrow twitching slightly with irritation, and plugged it in. After a few seconds, Izaya’s face was lit by the cold screen glow.

‘I spent too much time in the hospitals before that. Then I dyed my hair, and had less problems.’

‘I cannot really see the connection here,’ for a second the flea looked up, and then started typing something.

‘Are you interested to any extent?’

‘Not really, but I feel if I stay silent or isolated from any verbal information for an hour more I might go crazy.’

‘Well, I used to get into a lot of fights when I was a child, and I would break my bones – I think by now every bone in my body has been broken at least once.’

‘Can’t break os occipitale without dying,’ Izaya interrupted nonchalantly.

‘You know what I meant, flea.’

‘Yeah.’

‘So I spent most of the time at the hospital.’

‘How come you don’t break anything now? Are you induced with metal?’

‘Kind of. My limbs surely are. And in middle school I bleached my hair as a warning and to be more easily recognisable. It kinda worked. And then I transferred to high school.’

‘Ah, the good old days,’ this time Izaya smiled with his eyes only.

‘Depending on who's speaking,’ Shizuo answered and shifted his position, his back leaning on the inside of the armrest and his legs stretched out straight on the couch. He didn't know if Izaya that week gave any thought to their common past, but he did. It was initial spite; intuitive hatred. In the following days and years all the flea did was prove that Shizuo had been right in his judgement.

‘So, you’re strong because the metal gives the right endurance?’

Shizuo looked up and met Izaya’s attentive eyes. The box was at his feet, his fingers carefully hugging the monitor of the laptop, as if ready to close it any moment.

‘No. The pins are the consequence,’ it still felt abnormal to talk to the flea; to actually tell him something. ‘I’ve always been like this.’

‘Hmm,’ Izaya brought his fingertip to his lip. ‘Not that I care, really,’ he shrugged and came back to the laptop, typing something again.

Shizuo rolled his eyes.

‘You wanna go out?’

‘What, Shizu-chan, is this a date now after a minute of proper talking?’

‘You’re going rancid.’

At that, Izaya laughed out. ‘I would like to, but I’m not really sure I can.’

‘Why don’t you just dress up? Wear a mask and take this stupid jacket off.’

‘Do I look like I took a lot with me?’

Shizuo turned to his side, rubbing the side of his nose with such strength that were it someone else’s it would break. ‘I have some clothes I don’t really need.’

‘I hope they’re not contagious.’

‘Fuck off.’

Izaya seemed more or less relaxed; but it was in a way that a cat you beat would be relaxed when given a treat. A wrong movement would make it run away. Shizuo couldn’t pinpoint why he wanted to keep some peace between them; it was almost involuntary. Such primal fear coming from the flea was not right, it was out of this world. He was a coward, but not _like that,_ not blacking out and crying. He should be escaping with some sense of pride, and teasing the followers, not backing up and shuddering. The problem was, Shizuo was the one who put him in this state – at least that was what it looked like.

_‘So do you want him to stop screaming in his sleep until he suffocates and almost vomits like a goddamn toddler?’_

The answer was obvious, for Shizuo was not the one pretending to be someone else, or to feel something he didn’t and vice versa. Seeing a person, even if that was the flea, in such discomfort made him sense it in his nape, too.

* * *

‘Is this necessary?’ Izaya fixed his hat once more, but soon it would fall down to his eyebrows again. 

‘You want to see the outside or not?’

‘I am already.’

The beast huffed at that but said nothing.

His old clothes were obviously too big on Izaya, even the stupid grey beanie; he would probably pass for a hobo, which was an advantage of a kind. Shizuo, too, did not look like the most socially responsible citizen, but at least he didn’t have a mask on. Were they sitting in the streets, all they would need would be a cardboard with a text begging for money on it.

Yet he was glad to finally be outside, to see people in their natural habitat. When he saw the cold autumn sun, he felt that the first day of his isolation happened years ago; he instantly was refreshed. The beast followed a step behind him, his hands crossed. Why he acted the way he did was a mystery. He had always been incalculable to some extent, but actually _caring_ about _Izaya_ of all people – had he gone insane? Or had Izaya gone insane? Maybe he was locked in a basement and drugged to see hallucinations to be a show for some perverts. He could never dismiss such ideas – even if the Occam’s razor suggested otherwise. The chill felt very real, though.

‘Why is it so cold?’ he whispered and pulled the mask slightly higher.

‘You should eat more,’ was a reply from the back.

‘Have you ever wondered what a rhetorical question is?’ While it seemed that teasing the beast would not make him punch and kick Izaya around the streets he decided to use the possibility. These days Shizuo indeed made the impression of a person who would just tease back but not throw something heavy at the offender. It felt wrong, but it was so.

‘So what are you planning to do?’ Shizuo asked, lighting up a cigarette.

‘I don’t know. Just watch for a while. After all, it was you who brought me here.’

‘One should let their pests out for a walk.’

‘You seem to be a fast learner, just a week by my side, and your tongue sharpened,’ he turned back in his chair.

For that Izaya received a puff of smoke exhaled into his face.

‘Shut up, flea. Why are you always trying so hard to be an ass?’

‘It is just that I am,’ he started, waving his hand before his face to make the smoke dissolve, and turning away, ‘how do you say it? An ass?’

‘Now you pretend to not know curse words.’

‘I prefer not to use any, for the weak minds solely use them.’

Shizuo didn’t answer, but by now Izaya could tell he rolled his eyes.

‘So what did you mean by watching?’

‘Just what it is supposed to,’ he leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his temple against his fingers. The mask felt kind of like an armour, making him invisible to people, so he eased off a bit.

‘How’s the laptop?’

‘Fine. I didn’t log in anywhere, but I refreshed some info on the situation. And I also can guess what’s going on in Akukibi now,’ he followed the passing woman with his eyes. She carried her child, who was way too heavy for her to be able to walk without stopping every ten metres.

‘Which is?’

‘Their leader wants my head. But they apparently don’t know who you are, which is weird considering the size of their network.’

_‘What, are you friends now that you are talking to him like that?’_

Izaya felt like one does when going down the Steel Dragon, his stomach twisting and as if tickling. The thought was random almost, but it made him stop speaking and push his fingers deeper into his cheek to retain control. Shizuo probably replied with something but Izaya couldn’t hear; in his mind there was an image again of a knife in his side, and of Shizuo staring at him while Vorona tried to finish what had to be done. Should he have died there? Was the whole thing happening an afterlife? Was _that_ his Valhalla? He felt sick.

* * *

‘Hey, you alright?’ Shizuo asked once more when received no answer from the flea. He wanted to reach out, but remembered one of the stupid rules, so he just circled around and stood there, about a metre in front of Izaya who was staring somewhere in the distance, his hand clutching at his own thin face.

Suddenly Izaya bent over his knees and gagged, the few remnants of his breakfast splashing on the asphalt.

‘Shit,’ he coughed, his mask pulled down with his index finger.

‘I thought you didn’t curse,’ said Shizuo, mostly to distract the flea.

‘Very funny,’ Izaya moved his free hand, probably to wipe the saliva off his chin, but stopped midway and looked up when noticed Shizuo was in front of him. ‘Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why act like you care? You know, there isn’t a big list of things I hate, but pity is definitely there, Shizu-chan.’

‘Am I obliged to explain each of my actions?’

The flea tsk-ed and straightened up. ‘You’re not. Nor am I.’

Shizuo got the innuendo, sighed, and turned away, looking around to see if anyone had paid any attention to them. As usual, people only minded their own business. He remembered his own thoughts from a little more than a week ago, that he liked the city the way its life went uninterrupted by Izaya. People just walked by, each having their own lives, and fates, and problems. None of them even looked at the couple of guys who hung out near the old park. None of them knew what threat they both were for the normal lives of the crowd. One could turn everything upside down metaphorically, and the second one literally. They were kind of alike; wherever they came, the chaos was born, the lights went out, and the roar pealed with the laugh echoing. Without him, Izaya would just succeed in setting the city on fire. Without Izaya, Shizuo would just occasionally get into fights – or would he?

He’d never really thought about it in such a way, what would have happened to the two of them had they never met. Would they even be themselves? He hummed in annoyance at the idea.

‘I want to go to Ikebukuro. The centre.’

‘Why?’

‘I’d like to meet someone.’

Ikebukuro was as noisy and packed as always, tourists taking photos here and there, couples holding hands, students talking loudly. Shizuo sat at a bench, Izaya held some distance; as he told, it would be better. After quite a long wait, the flea waved at someone. From the crowd stepped out a man whose face Shizuo didn’t know. They had talked for a while, then the man gave Izaya something and left. The flea turned his head and gestured to Shizuo to come closer.

‘Some of my companions seem to be more loyal than the others,’ he said, toying with the package.

‘What’s that?’

‘Cupcakes assorted.’

‘Very funny.’

‘It’s a pack of data. Some from my other flat, and some new on the Akukibi leader.’

‘You sure it’s safe?’

‘I’m never sure I’m safe,’ Izaya shrugged. ‘Especially now. But I have your dull strength.’

The past week Shizuo always had the _‘I should be annoyed’_ sign above his head – yet the flea irritated him as much as Shinra did, if only slightly more. It was an alien feeling, as if the entire world had changed just for Shizuo to save some nerves, and the city to save money that would otherwise be spent on collateral damage. The whole situation was –

_Nice._

If Shizuo had ever been told he would to any possible extent fancy the company of Izaya, he would have sent the speaker to the stratosphere after laughing for an hour straight. Yet somehow it happened; only a week seemed to be required to get adjusted to the presence of the flea and to his occasional – sometimes constant though – teasing. For Shizuo it was just as strange that someone would be able to live with himself and not get killed accidentally, Izaya least of all. Their routine wasn't much; they both didn't cook too well but Shizuo was obviously better if judged by what the flea said, at least he could make curry without burning it. It was boring inside, so eventually Shizuo started taking walks around the neighbourhood. To sleeping in futon he had already gotten used. To the screams in the middle of the night he would never.

Looking at Izaya in his old clothes, staring at his beloved humans, Shizuo felt his stomach hurt for some reason. The flea would never get his feelings returned. All he did to people was hurt them, probably thinking he expressed his love this way – no, he wasn't this dumb, Shizuo thought. Was it deliberate? Would he not be able to stand actually being loved back? Would it be overwhelming? For Shizuo the fact that Celty had texted him a dozen times this week was reassuring someone would wait for him in any case, even if he didn't give it much of a thought. Would Izaya handle it? What would his face show if he knew Celty asked about him? Would it heal something in him, or would he just be hurt more by the memory of no one coming to help him not only because of sheer fear of Shizuo but also because no one cared really? Shizuo had thought himself lonely before; now he saw what loneliness looked like.

With his mask lowered to his chin, Izaya watched people passing by with a barely noticeable smile, his fingers tapping on the wrap of the package. He was as if locked up in his square metre of space, ignored by anyone, hated by anyone who noticed him. Shizuo could reminisce it had been the same before; it had always been like this, Izaya kicking at the transparent wall he couldn't be able to break.

After all, he was just a human.

* * *

It had always fascinated Izaya how much you can actually see in such a short time. Just by lazily embracing the crowd with his look he could pinpoint the important things, like _that woman has just lost someone_ or _this man is likely to be suicidal_. Or less important things, like a certain interest or a hobby or a hidden relationship. There were people somewhat immune to that, though, whose clothes and appearance did not show much, so to know more you'd have to look deeper, to talk or to dig.

That was one of the reasons Izaya tried looking as neutral as possible, a black attire and simple accessories – nothing that could show the inside of him. A polite smile was another armour piece. An observer should be invisible, he knew it better than many did. So now, covered by a shade of a tree, watching pedestrians rushing to their homes, Izaya felt he did belong to his lifelong position of a watcher. His parents had a weird sense of humour, but his name eventually was proven to suit him.

Sensing someone was looking at him, he blinked and turned his head. The beast had been staring at him for who knows how long, but even when their eyes met he said nothing.

‘What?’ Izaya asked.

‘I know you don't trust me,’ Shizuo suddenly started.

‘The world would collapse if I trusted anyone, it is in human's nature to lie, so don't think yourself too special.’

Shizuo sighed at that. ‘Speaking in your terms, that would be counterproductive in our work,’ there was a hunch in his shoulders that Izaya knew well. 

‘You're going to ask me to be friends?’ he laughed mockingly. 

‘There is no need to go that far, but at least some adequate level of trust should be between us. You cannot distrust your own bodyguard, that's just dumb.’

‘And is a bodyguard required to trust their employer? Would that be suitable for you, to abandon all the years of my, as you say, schemes, just so the way we work would be more appropriate according to some imaginable standards?’ the beast wanted to reply, but Izaya didn't let him. ‘There is no need in that. Trust in business is naïve. You give me service, I give you money, that is all,’ with that said, he set the wheels to motion and directed the way to Shizuo's house.

He didn't look back, so he didn't see the face of the beast, and all he could do was guess what emotion was imprinted on it. Whatever it was, after some time he could hear the familiar steps behind him that showed that whether or not Shizuo had understood his point or agreed, he had accepted the way Izaya wanted things to be, and that was enough.


	8. Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now you look, and look carefully. Try and find me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //TW// blood on illustrations, descriptions of violence

It was stupid to try to reach for the flea, Shizuo knew that, yet he still had tried. The reaction was foreseeable enough. Any endeavour to reason with Izaya would fail. He was probably unable to interact with anyone normally, it was either manipulating or making fun of them. He didn’t have any friends – that Shizuo knew for sure; even Shinra, who seemed to be the most tolerant towards Izaya, couldn’t really be called his friend, at least not in a meaning Shizuo gave the word. He wasn’t a specialist in human relations but that didn’t look like a sincere friendship for him. Shinra hadn’t asked – even through Celty – how Izaya was doing, nor did it seem that the flea cared about anyone who was more or less close to him, his sisters for example. They might have been dead already for all Shizuo knew.

So all he had left to do was stare at his own old hat, keeping some distance from Izaya, mostly to just keep from annoying him. However, after some time he spoke again, ‘Maybe we can go to your home in Shinjuku? It's been a week, I don't think they are still there.’

‘You got nothing to do?’

‘Well not really.’

Izaya sighed, stopped, and turned to face Shizuo. His exasperation seemed to fade rapidly.

‘Okay. It's not that I enjoy wearing your old worn clothes, you know. And having one set of underwear is just humiliating.’

‘Shall I fetch the keys?’

‘I’ve got them.’

‘Do you always carry them?’

‘Why would I leave them at your place?’

‘Hoping you might come back there?’

‘Get lost.’

‘It’s going to smell like hell again,’ Shizuo said when they were approaching the building that was so familiar. Shizuo’s own clothes plus his washing powder and the rest made the stench somewhat dissolved; or maybe he just got used to it. Izaya looked at him and rolled his eyes.

Staring at the buttons in the elevator, Shizuo pondered on how they would continue living. Once they would surely be found or forgotten, but how long would they have to wait? Wouldn’t it be easier for him to just go to their base and punch everyone so hard they would abandon the idea of looking for the flea? Why were they hiding in the first place, why wasn’t Izaya trying to fight?

His phone beeped.

[Shizuo, good day. I would like to stop by your home if it’s okay.]

_Celty._

〔Right now I’m not there, but in the evening of course.〕

[Okay. See you soon.]

‘Something’s wrong,’ Izaya said the second the doors slided to the sides.

‘How do you know?’

‘You think I’d have a door carpet? Especially this atrocious?’

There indeed was a small carpet at the entrance, with a ‘WELCOME’ in italics.

‘So they were here.’

Izaya didn’t answer and proceeded to open the door. At first sight, the flat looked just fine; there wasn’t a mess that is usual when intruders want to find something but don’t know where it is. As Shizuo had never been inside, he couldn’t tell what had changed, so he waited for the flea to look around.

‘You can sit, don’t just stand there like a mannequin.’

His eyebrow twitching slightly, Shizuo obeyed and sat on the corner couch. The flat was superfluously posh, having two floors and being probably bigger than half of the building Shizuo’s flat was in. He wasn’t a designer or anything, but what he saw he liked; everything was surely more expensive than his monthly rent but it looked… normal. There weren’t any redundant decorations, as there wasn’t any gold that most would associate with being rich. Someone would say it was all tasteful, he guessed.

He had never before actually thought about how much money Izaya made working as an information broker. Now he could tell it was much more than a debt collector’s bodyguard did.

On the table in front of the couch there was placed a game; for a moment Shizuo thought he was hallucinating, but no. It was a mix of shogi, go, chess, and poker. He looked in Izaya’s direction.

‘Need any help?’

‘I’d ask you to check the second floor but, as you’ve never been here, there really isn’t any point.’

‘Maybe they just put the carpet down and left,’ Shizuo shrugged.

‘Not everyone has the intellect of an amoeba, Shizu-chan. They had to know how to get inside, or why would they even come here at all? A carpet isn’t too threatening, and the door wasn't replaced, so they knew the other way, perhaps had a cracksman. Or–’ his face darkened. ‘Or they were let in.’

‘By whom?’

‘I had a secretary – though she would probably try and drown me in a lavatory for calling her such – who lived here. As I haven’t been here since I got into the hospital, I do not know her whereabouts. She must have just left after a week of wasting her precious time here,’ he said, musing. ‘Could you check the second floor, just in case?’

Not replying, Shizuo got up and went to the staircase. Izaya was going through the drawers of a strangely shaped desk; it was like a tetris figure that is always turned to the wrong side and messes everything up. The second floor was much smaller than the main room; there were two small rooms. Not knowing where to go first, he chose the right door. It happened to be the restroom, but it had more doors, and all that was there was a counter with a sink; the two doors led to the bathroom and the toilet itself.

_‘How big is this place?’_

The second door on the floor led to the bedroom, where nothing more than a wide bed and a wardrobe were. On the bed there was a laptop; Shizuo took it with a charger in case the flea would like to take it, as it was definitely better than the one he had bought – he instantly thought of returning the latter. It had been an impulsive purchase, and maybe the flea didn't need it at all.

Downstairs Izaya had emptied the drawers already, and their contents were spread either on the floor or the table; phones, notebooks, some folders, and other junk. The flea himself moved to the bookcase, trying to see if anything was taken from an obviously uncomfortable position.

‘There’s no one,’ Shizuo informed him. ‘But I’ve found the laptop.’

‘Great, I think I’ll use it here to check what I got before in Ikebukuro. Can you – wait,’ he reached up, his hand sliding in the thin gap between volumes, and raised slightly, balancing with his second hand on the armrest. From behind the books he got out a pig plushie. ‘What the hell? Ah I see. Shizu-chan, what would you prefer, staying here or going back to your place?’

Shizuo looked around curiously. ‘Why do you suddenly ask? Does my opinion have weight now?’

‘Well it’s you who will have to fight if we stay,’ and he turned the plushie so that its snoot faced Shizuo. Its eye had already been cut out, and there was some wiring showing. ‘We were watched, so I expect guests.’

‘Oh great,’ he frowned, his fingers pinching at his nose bridge, and looked outside the window.

‘Obviously,’ the flea continued, ‘being here would be more comfortable. Even if the bathroom is on the second floor only, and here is just the lavatory, at least it is possible to have some privacy. And it’s two couches here.’

‘Sounds tempting, but why didn’t you go here first?’

Izaya shrugged. ‘It was too close to Ikebukuro, and I was shown quite well that it’s better to stay out.’

‘But eventually you still showed up there.’

‘I did,’ he was seemingly more comfortable at his own territory. It was the first time he spoke about what had happened to them. Shizuo wondered for a second if there were any hidden guns in the room.

The sun soon would start setting, and he remembered Celty’s message. ‘Maybe for today I’d come back… I don’t know.’

‘What, you have a date?’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Anyway, having puddles of blood here would bring slight discomfort to me, so if you decide to stay, please keep the mess closer to the entrance,’ the flea drawled with a twisted grin.

_‘Maybe this place has some abnormal aura?’_

‘Okay. Let’s stay. You have some work to do, as it seems.’

Izaya smiled and reached his hand out, at the same time tossing the plushie to the bin near the desk. Shizuo came closer, gave him the laptop, and returned to the corner couch. Inspecting the weird game again, he noticed something.

‘Hey. Why is the ryuuou pinned to the board?’

‘Oh, you know the rules?’ he started with some leisure in his voice but it evaporated quickly, and looked up from the now open laptop. ‘Wait, what?’

‘There is some thick pin inside of it. How does one even do that?’

‘Seems they knew what they were doing.’

Not getting any further explanation, Shizuo looked at the board again. One of the figures that he hadn’t noticed before was turned upside down. He took it. The name of the figure was covered in dried dark red liquid, but he could make out that it was ‘soldier.’ It was the only such figure on the desk.

‘That is _byeong_ ,’ Izaya informed him from across the room, as if knowing what he was staring at. ‘From janggi.’

 _‘It’s read as_ hei _in Japanese,’_ Shizuo wanted to reply, but put the figure down. ‘It’s painted red.’

The flea burst into laughter. ‘They’ve done their homework, what else can I say.’

There was silence afterwards, only interrupted by the soft tapping of the keys. Shizuo took out his phone.

〔Hey. I think I won’t be home today. We got to the flea’s place.〕

It took Celty some time to reply.

[Alright. I can go there if you want. How is he?]

〔It’s like this place gives him that wicked energy of his. And it stinks. It’s possible we are expecting unwanted guests, so today it’s better to stay away.〕

[If you finish with them until nine, I may come. Just for a short talk. I haven’t seen you in a while.]

〔Sure. See you.〕

He put the phone away and stood up. It wasn’t much more entertaining here, but at least it was a change of surroundings and he could look around to see if there was anything of interest.

After some circling around and exploring, he stood near the bar table. Izaya glanced at him, sitting at the outer corner of the desk.

‘The guy I met before, he gave me some info on Sadao. The Akukibi leader,’ he elaborated when Shizuo looked puzzled. ‘But I don’t know if I can say it out loud. If you have nothing to do, you may look for the listening devices, though they are usually so small you’ll be like an elephant looking for a bug.’

‘Why are you all of a sudden annoying again?!’ Shizuo shouted, exasperated for real this time.

‘I’ve missed the outcries. What, you thought the peace would be eternal? Naïve as a toddler, Shizu-chan.’

In a fit of anger, Shizuo grasped the bar chair, ready to toss it, but was met with a gun muzzle directed at him. There was the twisted light in Izaya’s eyes again. He indeed felt safer in the place he knew well.

‘Go on, Shizu-chan. Was it not enough for you to make me crippled? Do you want to throw that chair at my head and make me braidead, so that I drool all over my knees?’

Hardening the grip, Shizuo felt his teeth grind. It was such an unexpected change of mood that he felt at loss, and it was difficult to concentrate.

‘You thought you proved something then? Oh no you didn’t; even the dumbest dog knows the stop command. You did not – down!’ he suddenly turned and moved to the side, close to the wall. ‘Get _down!_ ’

Reflectively Shizuo ducked, and at the same moment the window was shattered. The bullet landed into the side of the bar table; Shizuo got behind it quickly. ‘What the fuck?!’

His phone rang.

‘Don’t,’ the flea said quietly.

It rang and rang and rang in the silence of the room. Izaya hid himself behind a part of the wall, clenching on the armrest with one hand and holding a small gun in the second.

Then the message came. And another. And once more, and again, and again–

‘I’ll read them? This is just annoying.’

The flea sighed. ‘Okay.’

Shizuo read out loud, _‘Orihara Izaya. You probably thought you were the smartest one in your dear small district. You thought you found me, but it was me who found you. I would like to make this more interesting, but I can surmise that it would be faster to not let you go and hide in the sewer again, and even if I turn my attention to the people that are close to you, it will not give any result, for all who you care about is yourself.’_

‘How inspiring,’ Izaya looked at the desk where a small binocular lied. He tried reaching for it, but the same instant another bullet shot the desk.

_‘I did not let you. Or no, wait, you can take it, and I give you my word I will not shoot. Go on, try me.’_

When Izaya didn’t move, there was another message.

_‘Or I will explode the building, what do you think, can I do that? Just putting a little explosive somewhere under the floor, wouldn't that be nice and simple? Let's play, I know you love games. Isn’t it better to have at least some chance? You know that better than anybody else.’_

With his hand unsteady, the flea moved slightly forward and took the binocular. There was fatigue plain on his face.

_‘Now you look, and look carefully. Try and find me. If you do, I’ll leave.’_

Shizuo shook his head, but Izaya turned away and looked through the binocular at the nearest building. Most of its windows were dark, so even Shizuo understood it was a foul play. The phone beeped again.

_‘I’ll give you three minutes, and a hint. It’s to the left of yours.’_

‘Fuck,’ Izaya said almost under his breath. ‘He’s trying to make me go out in plain sight.’ He sat in the corner of the window, so that he was only visible from the right side of the adjacent building. Making him move to the other side would give the shooter full control.

‘Maybe we should just leave? He gave you three minutes.’

‘He has to be watching, he'll just explode the building, if it isn't all bluff, but we can't know. Okay. No one said you can’t do that, too. Can you get to this side? Just in case he’s messing with all these left bollocks.’

Shizuo climbed over the table and got to Izaya’s side. ‘Now what?’

‘Take it,’ he gave him the binocular.

‘And you?’

‘Look at the upper floors,’ he ignored the question and moved in a semi-circle, from back to the right side of the window. Shizuo’s phone started beeping and buzzing, the messages assaulting the inbox.

Before he could read anything aloud, he saw the last three texts.

 _‘–at least some respect_ – _’_

 _‘–so the last shot_ – _’_

‘– _I will make myself.’_

He raised his head, saw Izaya bending forward in his chair, and rushed ahead, turning so that his back faced the broken window. There was a strange sense to his spine, and all he saw before passing out was Izaya’s terrified face with blood droplets on it.

* * *

Izaya toyed with the beast’s phone, staring at the drawn curtains. They stopped the cold wind somewhat, but it still felt a bit uncomfortable. The broken glass on the floor cracked under the wheels when he dragged unconscious Shizuo back to the couch, and then pulled the curtains from the side, trying to not be seen. It was slow, but he succeeded eventually. His hands were shaking, and each time the phone beeped his whole body shuddered, but there were no more gunshots. When the adrenaline shock left him, he took the phone to read the entire thread. It turned out the beast didn’t even read it all.

_‘Orihara Izaya, the infamous Ikebukuro information broker. The scum of them all. You probably thought you were the smartest one in your dear small district. There you probably were, but it would be much more beneficial for everyone if you just stayed there, yet you decided that being a piece of slime that you are you were capable of more, and that is where you were wrong. You have personally insulted me, taking away what is dear, and then fled like a rat. However, to flee was not enough for you, you thought you could try and ensure your own safety with the only type of resource you know. You thought you found me, but it was me who found you. I would like to make this more interesting, but I can surmise that it would be faster to not let you go and hide in the sewer again, and even if I turn my attention to the people that are close to you, it will not give any result, for all who you care about is yourself. Even if your sisters were raped, even if your parents were killed, you would still only try to save yourself.’_

_‘Or I will explode the building, what do you think, can I do that? Isn’t it better to have at least some chance? You know that better than anybody else. You are, being the player for whom the figures are living people, undoubtedly familiar with hard choices. You could sacrifice your life and save the other tenants, but you will not. I know you, Orihara, and I will use your own weapon against you._ _Now you look, and look carefully. Try and find me. If you do, I’ll leave. Only you. If your pet tries anything, I will shoot him. Or you. Which one is the closest, or I’ll just flip the coin – who knows. You might have guessed by now that these messages are pre-written. With some corrections, obviously, but it must be a good marker for you in relation to how well I actually know you. You always think you do not leave any traces, but you do. So, I’ll give you three minutes, and a hint. It’s to the left of yours.’_

_‘Now, your pet doesn’t know any commands, and that is the impression his figure gave me when I played your cute little game. I hope you appreciated my little gift, it was quite hard to make, your figures are of high quality wood.’_

_‘I do not know how you made him work for you, considering your common past, but if you think he can help you you are mistaken. As I can see, you do not listen to what is told to you, so you will pay for inobedience in such a small and simple game.’_

_‘Now, I despise you, but as I have regard even towards such a scum that you are, and my time is of value, I do not wish to play this silly hide-and-seek. To bring a fast end to incrustation on the people’s lives requires at least some respect, so the last shot_ _I will make myself.’_

_‘You might think of me as cruel, but your pet died a simple and quick death. An accurate shot can help a human end their life without any suffering.’_

_‘I know Heiwajima Shizuo was a decent man. Simply had anger management issues.’_

_‘I would love to continue, but I do not have time to toy with you all evening. Wait for me, and this time your ending will be much more entertaining for both of us.’_

After that, there was a flood of messages by Celty, but Izaya didn’t bother reading any.

He did not know what chances Shizuo had to live, but when five minutes after the shot he was still breathing normally, he calmed down some more. He had ammonia, but it was in the lavatory upstairs, so all he had left to do was sit there and stare at the beast’s body. He felt there was blood all over him but was too unsettled to care.

So Shizuo knew Sadao would shoot. And he ran forward to guard Izaya. It was his work, yes, but it was one thing to talk about such situations hypothetically, and another to–

to have Shizuo actually protect him.

After some time, Shizuo grunted and opened his eyes. There was blood all over the couch, but the beast seemed fine.

‘Shit,’ he said, sitting up. ‘They haven’t killed you while I slept?’

‘He left,’ Izaya would be surprised with the coldness in his voice hadn’t he been pondering on what had happened for the last hour at least. ‘Are you _that_ dumb?’ he raised his voice involuntarily.

‘What?’

‘You could just say you couldn’t look for him, but _no,_ you just _had_ to make a show out of everything. Are you satisfied now? You think I’m in some kind of debt with you now? To be a bodyguard doesn’t mean to put a person into immediate danger and then be like – oh look at me jumping into a bullet’s way, I thought you had some basic experience.’ When Shizuo didn’t answer, he became even more pissed off. ‘Did you decide to avenge something? If that’s why you didn’t kill me, and now make my life a shitshow, congratulations, my life's fucked up enough already! Or did you agree in the first place because you felt some kind of guilt? Or is this all pity? You know–’

The beast stood up and quickly moved towards him; circled around, grabbed the handles and raised the chair with Izaya in it.

‘Put me _down!_ Why don’t you say anything? Or has he damaged the rest of your spinal cord that you used to think with?!’

Not saying anything, Shizuo brought him up the stairs and put down. Then he finally spoke. ‘Fuck you. Calm the fuck down. And go wash your stupid face,’ and he descended the stairs.

‘Fine! Go away, you can fucking _leave_ and I wouldn’t fucking _care_ , as it’s better to be dead than to spend another minute in the same room with a neanderthal like you!’

The entrance door slammed, probably leaving cracks in the wall.

Taking the clothes off with shivering hands was a challenge that took time longer than would be considered proper.

Izaya was so angry and adrenaline-high that he could walk to the centre of the bathroom, even if leaning on the wall for support. Still a bit unsteady, he stood there and turned the shower on. The water was refreshing, washing the beast’s blood from his skin. If it could wash away the sensation of pity, he would be grateful, but it didn’t. It was unbearable; the monster had no right to have any pity on him. He stepped on the drain, keeping water from going down. It was stupid to even start all this; he had to repay Shinra later. 

So Sadao was also a player, and knew how to get information he needed. And he apparently had some screws loose, judging by his texts. That was a man with a big ego, too.

When Izaya moved his foot away, the water went down with a gurgle, and the sound struck him; it was almost the same as the one he heard a week ago on the phone; the sound of a girl whose neck was cut trying to breathe. He stepped back, clutching at his shoulders.

_Killed a human._

_Who are you even after that?_

_You love humans?_

_All you do is lie._

All his dreams of him grabbing the schoolgirl by her hair and slitting her throat so that he could see her trachea, flashed before his eyes. He would then stab her, letting his fingers into her cuts, warm blood–

blood–

–everywhere–

–he had her blood on his hands.

She was dead, and he could not change that, and his own actions had led to it. 

She probably wasn’t particularly interesting–

–but she was human–

–and he loved her.

And he _killed_ her.

There was blood all around him, it was warm, and slippery, and it smelled like steel; it flushed all over him, and he would just drown in it.

* * *

‘Sorry. We were attacked.’

‘I can see that very well! You’re all covered in blood!!’ Celty was pissed off. If she didn’t have her helmet on, everything around them would probably just be smoke.

‘I’m fine. I think it stopped.’

She dropped her shoulders, as if sighing, and typed again. ‘How is he?’

Shizuo exhaled smoke. ‘He can’t walk. And he has something with his mind. More than before, I mean,’ he added when she wanted to reply. ‘He has nightmares. One of the rules he gave me is not to touch him. I think…’ he looked to the sky, ‘I think he’s broken.’

‘Why did you even agree? He might kill you in your sleep!’

‘Celty… I don’t think he will.’

‘Elaborate?’

He shook his head. ‘All I know is that the guys he messed with are even more insane. When they first attacked, it was a mess, they were so disgusting I tore off a towel dryer and broke a shit ton of bones there. Even the flea doesn’t deserve that. What’s weird,’ he smirked mirthlessly, ‘is that before today he didn’t even try to guilt trip me. Now he thinks I pity him. And he’s furious.’

She pondered on his words for a long moment. ‘Shinra told me… Recently. He might seem a psycho that plays with human lives, but he’s actually fragile. Like, if anyone would love him, he would break.’

‘That’s what I thought.’ Celty tilted her head, asking for an explanation. ‘Really. If I told him you asked about him a thousand times he would throw a tantrum. When you spend time with him, and it’s not just constant fighting, you start to see.’

They told some more, this time about more detached topics, but the thought of Izaya just being afraid of being treated like a human and not a distant observer fortified its position in Shizuo’s mind.

When he came back, he wanted to sit on the couch, but heard weird sounds from upstairs. It sounded like–

He ran up the staircase and into the bathroom.

Izaya was sitting on the floor, his back touching the wall and his knees close to his chest, shower splattering water all around the place. Half his face was hidden behind his hands, his eyes wide open and staring into nothingness.

He was wailing.

‘Flea?’

He didn’t respond.

He was in such distress Shizuo was afraid he might do something, even if it would be just sitting there until the apocalypse came. So Shizuo turned the water off, reached for the towel and, as careful as he could, turned it around Izaya and lifted him.

‘No! No, don’t _touch_ me!’ as if woken up, he started to struggle, kicking at Shizuo’s shoulders, but it was no use. Without any force, Shizuo just fixed his hands around the flea so that he wouldn’t fall. ‘Let me _go_!’ however much he tried, he wouldn't be able to break the ring of Shizuo's hands.

‘You’ll catch a cold!’ he tried arguing on simpler matters, thinking maybe that would work with a person in hysteria. It didn't.

‘Let me go! Don’t–’

As Izaya kicked him, Shizuo just stood there, waiting for his power to fade. When one of the already weak punches didn’t lead to anything, the flea went limp, and he could finally bring him to the bedroom.

After putting him down carefully, Shizuo sat at the farther end of the bed and waited for–

anything in this case.

It was a long and uncomfortable silence. Izaya looked drained. Then, finally, he spoke, but it was too quiet at first to hear, ‘–me.’

‘What?’

‘Kill me,’ and he raised his head, looking Shizuo in the eye, and there was nothing in his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN UNEXPECTED UPDATE (I didn't expect it really...)
> 
> Shout out to Em for all your comments <3


	9. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘You're not the only one who can watch, and who can see. And you are not as decipherable as you want to think.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SO SO SORRY FOR SUCH A LONG PAUSE ;;  
> a little interlude

‘Have you gone insane?’ Shizuo said quietly. Izaya stared at him, eyebrows furrowed deeply, and did not reply. ‘Why would I do that? Or why would you want that in the first place? If you are all of a sudden so eager to die, not so long ago you had a perfect chance to do so.’

The flea’s mood swings were irritating, going from silent to defensive to mocking to  _ this.  _ The worst was that Shizuo could not grasp whether the words were serious or it was just a hysteria. Yet by the look of Izaya – the way he plucked at the coverlet with his fingers until his knuckles probably turned white, and his eyes hollow, without even the ever-present mocking gleam – Shizuo could at least judge it wasn’t mere pretending in order to piss him off. The room was dark apart from the lights of the street coming through the window that were glistening across the flea’s eyes, and the yellowish light of the bathroom that seeped through the slightly open door.

When after a long silence Izaya didn’t reply, Shizuo sighed. ‘I did not try to make a show out of anything, you know,’ under the weight of the glare, he continued, ‘I didn’t even start looking for him the moment he wrote he would shoot. That was all bullshit about giving you a chance. To make you go out. If I stayed behind, he would still shoot, and you too know that. And it isn’t me making your life shit. Could you for a second stop blaming everyone around you for your own mistakes? Or am I now to blame for the girl’s death, too? When the only people responsible are those who did it, at least I guess so, cause you won’t fucking  _ talk  _ except for trying to piss me off.’

‘You want me to talk?’ Izaya’s voice was suddenly too harsh and dry, ‘What do you know then, if I do not talk, how can you make any assumptions? Do you think you know all? Do you even have any idea what it is like to bring about someone’s  _ death _ ?’

‘So what, you want me to find out now?’

The flea’s hand moved too fast to react; he grasped something from under the pillow and lunged towards Shizuo, his face distorted with fury. Feeling a sting in his arm, Shizuo groaned and looked to the side, seeing a knife that Izata wouldn’t let go. ‘You, throwing people like garbage and not batting an eye for sending them into hospitals for who knows how long, for almost taking their lives, what do you even know about anything I feel?!’

Shizuo reached out, grabbed Izaya’s shoulder and brought him down, pressing him into the bed. That earned him the knife slashing his arm once more in a desperate attempt to make him let go. Blood ran down his hand, sullying the flea’s bare chest and the bed linen.

‘Calm  _ down _ ! You think I have never met the repugnance of people, that I do not see that people suffer because of who I am? You think there weren’t moments in my life when I regretted even existing?! My  _ whole life _ has been so. But at least I do not pretend to be made of fucking stone and I do not run away when people show some decent regard to me,’ he lowered even more, leaving very little space between their faces, risking the chance of Izaya biting him. ‘Everything that is happening right now contradicts the image of the all-knowing and caring for nothing in the world you, so stop pretending like the only thing that makes you scream at night is that you betrayed some shitty ideals one is never even supposed to meet. You are human. Get on with it.’

Under him, Izaya was shuddering, clutching the knife that had been dug deep into Shizuo’s shoulder. The emptiness in his eyes had transformed into spite; he was glowering from under the long lashes, breathing fast and shallow. Shizuo raised slowly, and he let go of the knife.

‘You're not the only one who can watch, and who can see. And you are not as decipherable as you want to think. If such a dumb person as me can see beyond the façade, then your mask is really shitty.’

Izaya just laid there, following Shizuo with his gaze, cautious of what would come next.

‘Now your whole bed is bloodied. And  _ you _ told me to keep the mess out of the flat. Maybe you should stop being so defensive, y'know. It won't hurt if you for once don't make extra holes in my body,’ and with that, he stood up and left the room.

In the living room, he looked around to find something to block the window. The bookcase would do, but it was too massive to pick up without cracking it, and apart from it nothing really fit, so with a sigh Shizuo abandoned the idea. Besides, he didn’t really know if in the morning Izaya wouldn’t just throw him out. It was one thing to try to talk to a dumb person; whole another it was to try to talk to a smart person who wanted nothing but to pretend to be someone else. One could reach their hand to help, yet all received as an answer would be a glare and a mouthful of spite.

The cold air from the window made his injury tingle, so he sat on the bar table to be as far as possible.

With all that was happening, Izaya needed help. He wouldn’t accept any, especially from Shizuo. Even professional help he would probably reject.

For about an hour, Shizuo had sat there. He had made some tea, which made him soothe a little. After some pondering, he walked up the stairs again and peeked into the room where Izaya was supposed to be sleeping. Yet he wasn’t – with an end table light on, he sat and looked at the city through the window.

‘What do you want?’ he asked quietly, probably having noticed Shizuo with his peripheral vision.

‘To talk. Normally, this time.’

Izaya looked at him. His hair had grown too long, almost covering his eyes. The thought crossed Shizuo’s mind – for how long hadn’t he had a cut?

‘What about?’

Shizuo stepped into the room and rested his back against the wall.

‘About what we should do. I have three options.’

The flea raised an eyebrow. ‘Okay?’

‘First, we continue running all across Tokyo, or even Japan, yet they still manage to find us. Second, we – just you, in fact – flee the country. Third, we finally make a move to find them, but in a more secure way. You hide, and I do the hunting.’

Izaya huffed. ‘As if I haven’t thought of that before.’

‘Yet you haven’t done anything.’

With a gesture, Izaya offered Shizuo to sit at the bed. ‘You wanted me to speak? Alright. I’ll tell you what happened. After the hospital, I moved to K. Had to start there, so I wanted to make an acquaintance with the leader of their main group, the Akukibi. The plan was simple, to make some mooncalves kidnap the leader’s daughter, and for me to reveal their hideout. It didn’t go as planned, and they found out who I was. An acquaintance for sure. The daughter was killed – I heard it through the phone. It was so stupid, in fact. Yet I was confident it would work. So what I mean when I say my actions led to her killing is just that. If it wasn’t for me, she would still be alive. No other ifs and whethers.’

Shizuo kept a long pause, thinking. ‘So your dreams–’

‘It’s a mix. Mostly it’s just me killing her. Or me dying.’

‘Why don’t I just go to K. and find the leader? It couldn’t be that hard.’

‘And what would you do? Kill a person who just seeks revenge?’

‘What am I supposed to do otherwise? Protect you until the end of times? They are criminals, so I would just help the police.’

Izaya smiled at that.

‘The patron of justice, Shizu-chan, huh?’

‘Don’t piss me off. And sleep. And cut your hair in the morning,’ he stood up, aiming to leave.

‘Leaving again? I thought you wanted to talk.’

‘Just gave you some food for thought. And I wanted  _ you  _ to talk finally. Goodnight.’

‘Wait– um. You’re not leaving the flat?’

‘No, why? I’ll stay downstairs.’

‘Yeah. Stay,’ Izaya sent him a weird glance and turned off the light, submerging into darkness.’


End file.
